


Omega Run

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Abduction, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood Transfusions, Bruising, Choking, Drugging, Dubious Consent, F/M, Knotting, Marking, Mating, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Science, Smut, dark!fic, debasing treatment, injuries, medical violation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-07-29 13:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16265459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: She struck out on her own and thought she’d made it. When she’s kidnapped and thrown into an abandoned town, an illegal Omega run, Y/N has to rely on a man she barely knows to help her escape.Warnings: Dark!fic, smut, A/B/O themes, including knotting/marking/mating, non-con, dub-con, rough sex, choking, bruising, injuries, drugging, abduction, debasing treatment, medical violation, blood transfusions, confusing science shit.





	1. Chapter 1

 

As an Omega, there were three choices in life. Accept an arranged marriage if a suitable Alpha didn’t come along in time, the Omega run or you could try and make it on your own, which inevitably led you back to the first two choices.

The biological imperative for an Omega to breed was something eons of evolution hadn’t managed to get past. An Omega was born with a finite amount of an enzyme that prevented the breakdown of organs, usually resulting in a very painful, prolonged, and sweaty death at a young age.

After presentation, usually shortly on the heels of puberty, your whole life would be dictated by the need for an Alpha. Despite decades of research on producing the enzyme in a lab, no one had succeeded to make a substitute for the natural substance found in the saliva of an Alpha.

Slowly, they’d given up as evolution started to work. Fewer Omegas were born every year - less than 3% of the world’s population carried the Omega gene. Alphas dwindled even more; 1 in 37 adult males were presenting as Alpha and less than 1 in 6000 adult females presenting.

Y/N had presented late, not unusual, at the age of 19. With no biological parents to help her, she struck out on her own from the foster home she’d spent the last six years in, taking the third option. Presenting Omega was akin to a death sentence, a literal fuck or die scenario where you got approximately twenty years to find the Alpha you were genetically compatible with.

The world didn’t favor unmated Omegas. Betas, the most common of gene type, were top of the metaphorical food chain, unruled by their hormones. They didn’t rut or mate; their bodies had evolved to no longer require either enzyme. Alphas, usually impulsive and hot-tempered, considered Omegas their property, their entitlement. An unmated Omega was a target and the scent of heat could drive any Alpha in the vicinity mad with the need to mate.

At the start, things didn’t seem so bad. Y/N got a job waiting tables in a small Midwest town, cash in hand, and she found an apartment. There was barely enough room to swing a cat but it suited her. She found a local doctor and kept herself on suppressants, masking her scent and keeping her heats low-level.

For nearly eight years, Y/N had lived her life normally and she’d started to think that Mrs. Gradle at the foster home had been lying about Omegas. She’d always been a spiteful old cow, telling Y/N that she’d better hope she didn’t present, that if she did, she’d end up in the Omega run.

Y/N wasn’t a bad kid. She was troubled - anyone would be, seeing their parents murdered by what her twelve-year-old brain had convinced her was a werewolf. Living with her uncle hadn’t worked out when she’d been caught smoking pot with some girls who were a bad influence at her new school.

So, it was foster care. She spent six years under the care of Mrs. Gradle who was, thankfully, the only horrible member of staff. Everyone else was nice but Y/N knew she wasn’t going to get picked by any family. She was too old, too traumatized. Anxiety medication and regular psychotherapy appointments was too much upkeep for a couple just looking for a child to mold in their image.

Aging out was always her future. Mrs. Gradle let her stay on until she was eighteen when she went to live in a group home for aged-out kids and that was probably the worst eighteen months of her life. The other kids were mostly adolescent criminals and Y/N spent most of her time wandering the streets or working at the only bar in town.

She learned what she needed to protect herself after she presented, even though there was only one or two Alphas in town, mated ones at that.

Then it was the 4th of July and something horrific was happening in the little town. Six people were dead, hearts torn out, bodies mutilated. One was left in the public square and Y/N had seen the reports, recognizing the injuries.

Reaching out, she’d tried to tell the police that the same thing had killed her parents, seven years ago. Y/N had found them, ripped apart, a man in the doorway who was twisted and furry, with long bloodied claws and dripping teeth. A werewolf had killed them, she was sure of it and the same thing was happening again.

They laughed her out of the station. No one would listen to her.

When the FBI knocked on her door, Y/N thought it was a joke but the two men seemed deadly serious. She answered their questions honestly and asked them if it was a werewolf. She’d seen enough X-Files to know they were lying when they said it was confidential. The entire time they were there, she felt like they were deceiving her - the younger one seemed more confident in himself but the older one…

Even now, she shuddered at the memory of him but it wasn’t an unpleasant shudder. He’d been Alpha, she was sure of it. Those dark eyes and broad shoulders, the scruff around his chin that was salt and pepper with his older years.

The murders stopped after two of the bar regulars, Joey Clark and Phil Jones, were found shot through the heart with silver bullets in an old house outside of town.

Y/N couldn’t help but think the FBI agents had something to do with it. Either way, home didn’t feel safe, and she packed up, deciding she needed a fresh start. Shelbyville, Indiana became home. No one knew her and she could begin to live her life how she wanted.

Except the nightmare didn’t go away. And it was just the one.

It would always start in her childhood home. Her parents woke her screaming and Y/N had crept downstairs in time to see the wolf-man in the doorway, stood over her parent’s bloody corpses, their hearts in his hands. Silenced by fear, she’d frozen on the stairs and the wolf had devoured one of the still-warm organs in front of her.

Y/N never knew how she was spared.

But in her nightmare, the FBI agent with the salt-and-pepper beard and the dark eyes that swallowed her whole was there. And she wasn’t a child. She was grown and the werewolf didn’t escape - the Alpha killed it, shot it through the heart with a silver bullet.

Sometimes, the nightmare turned into a fantasy that would leave her wet and wanting, twisted in her sheets and panting hard enough that she had to take a cold shower to shock her back into herself. Y/N didn’t so much mind it but she wasn’t sure what caused her subconscious to focus so much on the FBI agent she’d spoken to for less than twenty minutes.

The dreams were easy to forget during the day.

Life went on and Y/N thought that maybe Mrs. Gradle had been lying after all. Maybe there wasn’t even such a thing as the Omega run. Maybe the world wasn’t so frightening as she’d been led to believe.


	2. Chapter 2

**(WARNING: This chapter contains non-consensual content)**

“You done for the day?” Kirsten asked, tying her apron around her waist. Y/N nodded, hanging hers up. “What did you do to get Frankie to give you the day off?” the younger girl sneered.

“I worked sixty hours in a week,” Y/N replied dryly. “Kirsten, you can’t expect to take and never give.” The other waitress shrugged, leaning over to check her makeup in the small mirror on the wall. It wasn’t really even a staff room - more of a closet where Y/N and the six other waitresses had to cram themselves in. Luckily, there was never more than two of them on at a time.

Kirsten sighed as she retouched her lipstick. “Up to anything fun?” she mumbled, still sounding a little bitter.

Y/N shook her head, picking up her bag. “Not really. I’m off for the next few days.”

“Ugh,” Kirsten growled. “Seriously, how do you get a long weekend like every month?”

“It’s not every month,” Y/N muttered, slinging her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her coat. She wouldn’t need it in the surprisingly warm spring they were having but it was better to have it anyway. “And like I said, I work hard.” She headed for the door, waving at Kirsten. “See you later.”

Her co-worker’s muffled reply was drowned out by the door.

It was already getting dark outside and Y/N was glad she’d managed to get the busy Friday night period off. She hated dealing with drunks and stoners who wanted a burger at 3am, especially when she was this close to her heat. The fever was simmering below the surface of her skin, held in check by only 30mg of Omegpress, the suppressant she used like clockwork and had done for nearly a decade.

Still, she knew her scent was lingering. The blockers didn’t always work, particularly if it had been a long and sweaty shift.

Shelbyville had a relatively low Alpha population and there were more unmated Omegas than just her. Y/N had made friends with a few of them, gathering their advice for surviving without a mate. The eldest, Emilie, was nearly 39, although the heats had taken a serious toll on her health. She was an advocate for Omega-human rights and was always arranging meetings that Y/N hadn’t managed to attend.

She just wanted to live her life. Emilie seemed to respect that but she didn’t stop cajoling.

Turning onto Garden Street, Y/N started the three block journey home, keeping her head down. If it wasn’t getting dark, she’d listen to some music, but that was a risk she wouldn’t take, even in a safe town like Shelbyville.

A large black car rumbled down the street towards her, heading in the other direction, and something made her stomach flip uncomfortably. There was one shadow in the driver’s seat and Y/N didn’t know how but she felt his eyes on her as she passed. Her feet sped up, carrying her down the block and she daren’t look over her shoulder to see if the car was still driving away.

Reaching her apartment building two blocks later, Y/N’s legs were aching from the speed walk, and she was sweating profusely. Her scent-blockers had failed and she was due her dose of anti-suppressants, the need for which had given her the shakes. With each second, her temperature rose and Y/N fumbled with her keys, desperate to get into the building, behind the safety of the locked doors.

Something grabbed her from behind and a rag was stuffed over her mouth. A foul scent invaded her senses and her eyes rolled back, consciousness slipping from her grasp. Her bag clattered to the floor, keys falling out onto the concrete.

*****

Her eyes stung when she tried to open them, unsure what had just happened. Someone had grabbed hold of her and she hadn’t seen a thing. With a whimper, Y/N tried to sit up, realizing she couldn’t because she was bound to the surface she was laying on.

And she was naked.

Confusion turned to terror and Y/N forced her eyes open, seeing a dingy ceiling above her, water-stained and cracked. She was on a bed, possibly the most uncomfortable bed in existence and her body was bound by ropes across her throat, chest, stomach and thighs. Wiggling her toes was all she had and she wasn’t about to free herself with a round of “This Little Piggy”.

Across the room, there was a small sink with a toilet but for the most part she was alone. The curtains were closed and she couldn’t tell if it was dark outside or light. How long had she been here? Who had taken her?

As her senses woke, so too did the burning underneath her skin. She hadn’t taken her suppressants and now her body was surging into life, the heat making her stomach churn with nausea.

Y/N cried out, glad her mouth wasn’t gagged. Her eyes streamed with tears and she couldn’t get rid of the foul taste on her tongue, likely a side-effect of whatever they’d dosed her with. Her throat grew hoarse quickly and she laid in her bindings, sobbing when nothing happened.

The door opened a little while later when Y/N was hovering between unconscious and wakefulness. She was hungrier than she ever remembered being in her life and her lips were so dry they were cracked, and bleeding slightly.

She wasn’t expecting the woman that entered silently. “Where am I?” Y/N rasped but the woman ignored her, moving to the sink. There was a small basin in her arms which she slowly filled and Y/N pulled at her bindings. “Hey. Please. Tell me where I am!”

The woman carried on, deathly quiet, filling the basin and retrieving a washcloth that was folded neatly on a shelf above the sink. She turned, carrying the water over to Y/N who stared at her with wide eyes.

Was she going to bathe her?

Shame sprung to her cheeks as the woman surveyed her nude body, tutting. “Getting fatter and fatter, these Omega whores,” she commented and Y/N’s eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider.

“I’m not a whore!” she defended.

It was like she hadn’t even spoken.

The woman started to wash her down, roughly, the cloth scraping over her skin and leaving it flushed where she touched her. She didn’t seem to care for Y/N’s comfort either, washing her intimately even when Y/N begged her not to. When she was done, she didn’t even look at Y/N’s face, walking away with the basin.

“Hey! Wait! Please!” Y/N’s screams hit the closed the door and she started to cry again.

It was even longer before the door opened again and this time, a man walked in, carrying a briefcase. Y/N was half-delirious with hunger, having spent hours with no food or water, and her body felt like it was cooling down. She gasped out a plea for freedom which went unheard, much like with the woman.

The man inspected her, almost like a horse for sale, commenting on her appearance.

“Omega is chubby,” he commented, holding her jaw in his hand, forcing her to open her mouth. Y/N couldn’t fight - there was no strength left in her. “But young and healthy.” He paused, scribbling a few notes down and then he opened his bag.

Was this really happening to her? This was the sort of shit you saw in horror movies.

The cold steel of the speculum against her sex made her jerk and gasp. Her assailant slid it in, making humming noises for a few seconds as he inspected her in the most invasive way possible before removing the speculum.

She was crying again.

“Please,” she whispered, feeling like her throat was on fire. The man ignored her, pressing his hand between her legs. He pressed two fingers into her, curling them and her body had no choice but to react.

“Omega appears to not be a virgin,” he commented, writing more notes. “Although it hasn’t taken a knot before.”

“What?” Y/N found a little energy in her arms, wiggling as much as she could. “I’m not an “it”! My name is Y/N and you’ve kidnapped me.”

There was no reaction like she’d never spoken a word. The man cupped her breasts, squeezing the nipples. “Adequate breasts. She’s definitely fertile.”

She was nearing hysterics. “Please…”

Ignorance was her only answer and the man finished writing something down without speaking before packing up his bag and leaving the room. Y/N pulled on her bonds, screaming as loud as she could.

Darkness was swift to take her as she lost the will to fight it anymore.


	3. Chapter 3

The ropes were gone. As soon as she woke up, she could move and she was still in the same room. Climbing off the bed, Y/N tried to find some clothes to cover herself but there was nothing, not even a sheet on the bed to use. The curtains wouldn’t come loose from their holding and when she looked out the window, all she could see was empty streets.

Checking the door, Y/N found it unlocked and that puzzled her even more. Was she free to go? Was this a more elaborate trick?

Retreating back into the room, Y/N checked again for anything she could use, finding nothing but an old piece of pipe under the bed. Deciding she could use it as a weapon, she hefted it in her hand, testing the weight of it. She drank from the sink, using her hands to cup the luke warm water; better than nothing.

Her stomach growled loudly.

She didn’t even know how long it had been since she’d eaten.

Stepping out into the corridor with the pipe held high, Y/N waited. She felt like she was being watched, that horrible hackle-raising sensation that made you feel sick to your stomach. But for all she could see in the dark old hotel, there was no one else there.

She tried the next door, finding a room similar to the one she’d been in. This room was lacking in anything useful except for a bag of chips which she stopped and ate quickly.

Six more rooms, all yielding nothing but empty, stripped beds and the same awful maroon decor. There was no sound except for the creaking of the pipes and the floorboards under her feet.

Finding nothing else on the floor she was on, Y/N located the stairs, picking her way down quietly, on full alert for anyone else. She was still hungry, still thirsty but mostly, she wanted clothes. Her scent was like a perfume, tainting the air around her and Mrs. Gradle’s horror stories came back to her.

“You’ll end up in a run,” she’d sneered. “Dirty and rotten like all the other Omega whores.”

Y/N didn’t know what had ever made Mrs. Gradle despise Omegas so much.

The ground floor was as deserted as the rest of the building. She tiptoed through the dust wondering where she was and why she’d been left there. Finding a kitchen, she discovered little in the way of food, but she did find a few unopened bottles of water. Need outweighed risk and Y/N drank one in its entirety, wondering how to carry the other two when she was holding the pipe.

A low moan caught her attention and she froze on the spot, listening. For a few seconds nothing happened. Y/N remained still, considering the possibility she made have gone insane.

Another moan, more pained this time. Y/N put down the bottles and picked up the pipe, creeping across the kitchen toward a closed door. The thick male sounding groan was behind it.

“Hello?” Y/N whispered, frightened of raising her voice anymore. Her hand shook as she reached for the doorknob, twisting it slowly and half-expecting the door to be locked. But it opened easily, swinging back towards her.

A set of stairs lay before her and the moan sounded again, clearer this time. Holding her breath, Y/N put her foot onto the top step, slowly lowering her weight to try and avoid any creaks. The wood dug into her soles as she descended, crouching low to see through the wooden railing.

Dressed in a thin t-shirt and cargo pants was a man curled on the sandy floor, across the other side of the dimly lit basement. The only source of light was a few candles and the air smelled of burning wax, blood and -

Alpha.

Y/N stayed low when she reached the bottom of the stairs, eyes locked on the man.

He rolled a little and she saw the wound to his head, the blood clotted and drying on his skin, bits of sand sticking to the fluid. His eyes were closed, one swollen and black around the edges and she could see numerous other injuries littering his body. Y/N frowned as she drew closer, recognizing his strong features, despite the bruising and blood.

“Agent Lennon?” she whispered and the Alpha’s eyes snapped open.

Hazy chocolate focused on her for a moment and Y/N crawled backward, suddenly very aware she was naked. This man was an Alpha, she could smell it clearly, lingering in the air and sticking to her skin. She was an Omega in heat, weakened, and it was impossible for an Alpha to resist an unmated Omega in that sort of state.

“You’re the…” the man groaned, reaching out a hand to her. The gesture obviously caused him pain as he swiftly wrapped his other arm under his ribcage, clutching it with his huge hand as spittle dripped from his lip to the floor.

“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed.

“‘ve been better,” he quipped, lifting his eyes to look around the room, rolling back onto his back as he panted for breath. “You’re the Omega from South Dakota.” Y/N nodded, keeping her distance. “You in heat?” he asked, although there wasn’t really a need to.

He could smell it as much as she could and his body was responding like it was programmed.

“Shit.” His head hit the sand with a thud and Y/N stayed put, clinging to her pipe like it might save her. “‘M not gonna hurt ya,” the man mumbled, slinging an arm over his eyes. “Couldn’t win a fight with a paper bag right now.”

Y/N still didn’t move, stuttering as she tried to form a question. “Y-you said you were an FBI agent.”

He smiled at that, managing to shake his head, his hand still splayed over his ribs. “Sorry, sweetheart. S’part of the job.”

“To lie about being a Federal Agent?” she demanded, sounding a little bolder. “Who are you really? Did you bring me here? Did you -” Pausing, Y/N swallowed, remembering what had happened upstairs. “Did you tell those people to touch me like that?”

The man’s eyes went wide and he looked across the room at her, half-crouched, shadows dancing over her bare skin like she was some kind of wild thing. Goddamn, his cock was definitely interested but the possibly broken ribs were keeping him down and in control.

He just had to focus on the pain.

Y/N waited, unsure if he was the reason behind everything. Slowly, he licked his chapped lips, taking a breath. “My name is John Winchester. I’m a hunter. And no, I did not bring you here and I didn’t tell anyone to touch you any how.”

“A hunter?” she prodded. “Hunter of what?”

“Monsters, ghouls, vampires,” his gaze was hot on her skin, “werewolves.”

“Werewolves.” The repeated word came out a whisper on her lips. “I saw -”

John nodded. “Werewolves killed your folks. I’m sorry, kiddo.”

Y/N didn’t reply, sinking down to her knees in the sand, lowering the pipe. “Everyone told me I was crazy. That I imagined it. And you…” She looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. “You told me it was gonna be fine. And it was. You killed the werewolf.”

“There was actually four,” John explained. “A pack.” He grunted, trying to shift himself. “Not wolves this time though.” He closed his eyes, letting his head roll so his nose was pointed at the ceiling.

“This time?”

“I was on a case in Shelbyville,” he muttered, eyes remaining closed. “Missing people. All Omegas, all across the Midwest. The most recent I found was a twenty-three year old male. I thought it was some kind of specific monster but…” He groaned and shuffled across the ground, aiming for the wall. “It’s a goddamn Omega purge.”

“Purge?” Y/N repeated, frowning. “I’ve never heard of an Omega purge.”

“It’s illegal is why,” John informed her, pushing himself up into a seated position, breathing heavily. He pulled his hand from his shirt, growling in pain when it came away sticky and his shirt was red. “This is what happens when I pick a fight with a vamp.”

“Vampires?”

A swift nod and John was lifting his shirt. “They’ve taken over an Omega run.”

“Why would vampires want Omegas?” Y/N asked and John nodded again, hissing as he prodded the laceration on his side.

“S’not too deep,” he grumbled, lowering his shirt again. “Omega blood is sweet. Pure. Stronger than Alpha or Beta. And now, it’s gettin’ rarer.” He looked around the room again. “What’s upstairs?”

Y/N hesitated, looking back toward the door. “Er, looks like an old hotel? But it’s empty. All the rooms.” John curled his knees up to his chest, bracing himself against the wall and she moved backward. “It is a good idea for you to get up?”

“I’m good, princess,” John replied, snarling in pain a second later when he hauled himself upright. He stopped with his full weight on the wall, catching his breath. “It’s not bad. I’ve had worse.”

She watched him warily. “You’re an Alpha.”

“Yes,” he replied, his voice low. “But I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. I promise you now, I won’t do anything.” Standing straight, John grunted as he removed his shirt, handing it to her. “Put this on. I know it’s dirty and torn but it’s better than walking around in your skin.”

Y/N took the shirt, avoiding any skin-on-skin contact with him, slipping it over her shoulders. Just having that single layer made her feel better and it helped that John was apparently huge and the shirt hung on her like a dress.

John smiled, limping towards her. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can find out where we are.”


	4. Chapter 4

(WARNING: This chapter contains restraint, implied sexual assault, and dub-con)

The hotel exit led out onto the deserted street that Y/N had seen from the upstairs window. John kept close to her, respecting her boundaries but not letting her out of his sight. He’d thought walking with broken ribs was bad enough but walking with broken ribs and a raging erection was worse than he’d imagined. Y/N’s scent was intoxicating and if John was right about his suspicions, she was in more danger than either of them could comprehend.

This case had turned out to be the biggest resurgence of vampires in American history. Daniel had put him onto it, worried about a few small cases of Omegas turning up, their cause of death blamed on exsanguination. It had occurred across the Midwest and John managed to catch up with them in Shelbyville.

He’d inadvertently found himself in the company of their intended prey.

“This way,” John murmured, looking up at the sky above. The place was a ghost town but John knew that appearances could be deceiving. Moving down the street, they both kept an eye out, Y/N holding her pipe high. What he’d give for a gun right about then.

Unfortunately, his captors hadn’t been nice enough to gift him with any of his supplies; they hadn’t left him with anything but his pants and t-shirt. Which he’d now given to the sweet-smelling Omega they’d shoved under his nose.

The empty street echoed with a low snarl and John turned, looking back the way they came, feeling Y/N’s fingers wrap around his bare arm. His skin sizzled with the contact, his cock throbbing in his pants. John attempted to calm the beast in his chest, focusing on the pain and the danger.

“Be quiet,” he murmured and Y/N nodded, surrendering the pipe when he held out his hand. John moved away, keeping his eyes peeled for movement.

Something faster than he could keep up with darted across the street and he knew it was one of the vamps. He grabbed Y/N’s hand, dragging her with him as they ran, the vampire hunting them. Spotting an open door, John led Y/N inside, slamming the door shut and locking it.

They waited in silence for the vamp to hammer against the door. But nothing came.

“They’re toying with us,” John murmured. He turned curious eyes on the frightened Omega. “You said they touched you?” She nodded, shaking all over. “How?”

“H-how?” she squeaked.

He nodded. “What happened to you before you found me?”

Y/N was trembling now and not just from cold. Adrenaline pumped through her system, spiking her heat higher and John had to swallow the groan of arousal that just her scent was causing. His skin prickled with the need to touch her and he felt sick to his stomach - he hadn’t had a rut in nearly a decade but this felt like the start of his first all over again.

“I was on my way home and someone grabbed me, put this really bad smelling cloth over my mouth.” She closed her eyes, obviously reliving the memory for a second and John waited. “It felt like only a second from then to when I woke up. I was in a bedroom on the second floor and tied down. The only part of me I could move was my toes.”

“How’d you get out?” John asked curiously.

Y/N shrugged. “Some woman came in and washed me.” Her cheeks flushed red as she remembered the rough cloth. “Everywhere. She was talking but not to me. More like… I was an object.” A violent shiver shook her voice and her body and John moved closer. She didn’t flinch, almost gravitating towards his warmth. “She left. I don’t know how long I was up there but then this guy came in -”

Her words faltered and trailed off. John was against her nose, letting her seek comfort and warmth against his bare chest. The Alpha in him was crowing with delight, his body wanting nothing but to sink into her and knot her.

He had more control than this. He wasn’t gonna hurt the girl.

“He touched me,” she whispered, the words muffled against his bicep. “Put his fingers…” Her head shook and John grunted, trying to convey that he knew. And he was trying not to think about sinking his fingers into her, making her cum with just the crook of two digits. She’d be so pretty when she came, all flushed and sweating. “Then I woke up and the ropes were gone.”

“What the hell are they doing in here?” John murmured and Y/N shrugged, the moment between them snapping. She took back her personal space, tugging the shirt down as far as she could. He could smell her, smell how wet she was for him. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be able to see her slick trickling down her leg, just begging to be licked up off of her delicate skin -

Fuck, his inner thoughts groaned. Just do it. John shook himself, wrestling for control of his own body. He was not some damn teenager popping his first knot. He refused to give in.

Something in the building creaked and Y/N turned around. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” John growled, the sound low and dangerous in the almost pitch-black room. “Is this even a house?”

Y/N shrugged, peering into the darkness where the light from outside didn’t penetrate. “I don’t see anything. Maybe it’s empty like the hotel.” John hummed with indecision, still holding the pipe. He took a few steps forward into the dark and Y/N remained in the light, watching until he disappeared entirely. “John… what if that thing comes back?”

He didn’t reply and Y/N frowned, taking a hesitant step forward, edging towards the dark.

A grunt of pain sounded before John called out her name and Y/N shrieked, backing up against the door. She screamed for John and something emerged from the shadows, smiling at her.

Not. John.

She turned, fumbling for the door handle, turning it just as clammy hands wrapped around her waist.

*****

At least this time when he woke up, John didn’t feel quite as bad. Except for the fact that he was laying on a filthy wooden floor with blood seeping from the laceration on his side and he may have potentially lost the only lead he had.

Groaning, he pushed himself off of the floor, dusting down his pants and looking around. It was just as dark as before and he couldn’t see the Alpha he’d tackled with. He’d been stupid, distracted by the scent of Omega. Not picking up the threat because he was thinking with his dick.

John growled in frustration, scenting the air.

She was still close.

He couldn’t have been out for long. Her scent was fresh and John let his nose guide him through the darkness, keeping his arms out in front of him to prevent any collisions.

It felt like the pain was ebbing away, replaced by anger the closer he got to her. She was crying, he could hear that much and as he climbed the staircase, the Alpha’s scent hit him and he couldn’t stop the low warning growl he emitted.

Emerging onto the first floor, John concentrated on his senses, finding them more attuned the more he let go of the control on his Alpha nature. It was lighter up here, weak streetlights outside casting a glow into the large open room he stepped into.

Even without the light John would have sensed her, only meters from where he stood. She was suspended off of the floor by ropes, holding her bent over, arms tied at the small of her back. The other Alpha was behind her, smirking decadently.

“We can share, if you’re insistent,” he offered.

John had felt anger before in his life but not like this. His entire body thrummed with murderous bloodlust and he started to cross the room towards the other Alpha. It took a few seconds for him to catch up with John’s intentions, baring his teeth and lunging as Y/N screamed.

The smaller, less experience Alpha came apart easily under John’s hands and when he reached for Y/N, she screamed until she saw it was him. Her body reacted instantly and John took her face between his fingers, pulling the gag free. “Are you okay?” Nodding through her tears, she whimpered and he knew she was lying. “What’s wrong?”

“Hurts,” Y/N choked, twitching in the ropes. John could see the sweat beading on her forehead and now the fight was out of him, her scent was arousing an entirely different sort of interest. “Hurts real bad, John.”

It was probably inappropriate of him to kiss her right then, blood from the other Alpha smeared across his cheek. But appropriate behavior had long left the building and all John could focus on was the smell of her slick and the thought of sinking his cock into her tight little cunt.

She responded to him, panting when he broke away and turned her, groaning at the sight of her slick pussy. “John, please…”

Her pleading made his cock jump and his fingers were unbuttoning his pants before he’d realized what he was doing. Y/N whined “please” over and over and John closed his eyes, trying to regain the control he’d lost. But she kept moaning and she was so warm, so close to him -

Y/N screamed when his cockhead pressed into her, not even giving her a moment to adjust to the position. The ropes dug into her belly as John’s cock filled her and her eyes rolled back as she came, easily stimulated with how bad her heat had gotten.

It was good. Despite the situation, Y/N didn’t think she’d ever been fucked so… thoroughly in her entire life. Fumbling about with Betas was nothing compared to the first Alpha to touch her. John’s fingers were bruising her right hip, his other hand holding her bound wrists for leverage.

She wanted more and she couldn’t move. She was literally a puppet on string, bound for his use, even if that hadn’t been the intention. It was filthy and degrading.

So why couldn’t she stop cumming on his thick length, begging for more?

John moved his hand from her wrists to her hair, dragging her head up and increasing the power behind his thrusts. His injuries were forgotten as he lost himself in pleasure, the thought of the risks he was taking making no appearance in his cognitive thought process.

His knot filled, thick and pulsing, locking him inside the bound Omega’s body as she twitched through an orgasm, her screams dying out to nothing. John didn’t move, clinging to her body, breathing heavily against her spine.

It took a little while for the realization of what he’d done to set in and he withdrew with a wince, watching cum spill out of Y/N’s abused hole onto the wooden floor. John collapsed, covering his face as Y/N groaned, needing to be cut loose.

“I’m so sorry,” John murmured and Y/N fought her way back to consciousness. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t, I didn’t -”

“John,” Y/N croaked, “cut me down. Please.”

He nodded, dragging himself over to the other Alpha, searching his pockets. All he found was a piece of glass and some gum. The glass sufficed for the job and John quickly set about freeing Y/N. “Your shirt -”

“He ripped it,” she mumbled, covering herself with her arms. “I don’t think his pants will fit.” Her eyes were shining with moisture when she raised them to his. “Why was there another Alpha here?” The idea of where she was had already occurred to her and she swallowed when John didn’t answer, guilt swamping his face. “Are we in the Omega run?”

With a sigh, he confirmed it. “Yeah. I thought we were. Which means we’re - you’re in danger.” His expression didn’t change as he continued. “From me.”

“John -”

“I just raped you, Y/N,” John interrupted, angry at himself but projecting it outward. “You’d be better off -”

“I wanted it!” she snarled, slapping at his bare chest. “Damn you.” He blinked, like he didn’t quite understand what she’d just said. Y/N stomped her foot, heading for the door. “I’ve dreamed about you rescuing me.”

“Wait -” John murmured. “-what?”

Y/N stopped at the door, sighing as she leaned against the frame, all too aware of his cum dribbling down her leg. “Since that night you came to town when I was a kid. About the werewolves. I’ve dreamed about you since.” John didn’t say anything and she turned, lifting her eyes to him. “I dreamed you saved me and killed the thing that killed my parents.”

“I did,” he said suddenly. “I tracked it down and killed it.”

She frowned. “Was it one of the ones in town when -”

“No,” he admitted. “I checked on the case and figured it out after I met you. I ganked it because… you needed justice.” His dark eyes were focused on her and Y/N swallowed. “Your scent… it’s like a million things I know I can’t have. And it’s just making me want you more.” John shook all over, trying to control himself and the outline of his renewed arousal was obvious in his pants. “They’ve done something to me. I’m not like this. And I’m dangerous.”

“You’re not dangerous to me. You’re the only way I’m going to get out of here alive,” Y/N insisted although her downstairs brain was heavily leaning toward the idea of finding a safe place and fucking until someone rescued them.

It wasn’t like International Rescue was on hand though.

“Are you sure this is an Omega run?” Y/N asked, moving over to the window and looking out onto the street. “It looks like a ghost town.”

“It’s how they set up,” John said, checking around the room for anything else they could use. “Ghost towns, fence ‘em in, throw in Omegas that won’t mate. Centuries ago, it was the done thing. Now, it’s illegal. But whoever is running this set-up -” He growled. “It doesn’t make sense. Yeah, Omega blood is a delicacy to vamps but why would they put Alphas in here too?” Y/N shrugged, hugging herself again to try and keep warm. John looked over at her and returned to her side, pulling her into him, allowing himself a brief indulgence in her scent and touch.

“So are they capturing Alphas too?” she asked, her face squished against his bicep where she could see the dead Alpha on the floor.

John had torn his throat out.

Y/N didn’t want to know what he used when she kissed him a few moments ago.

“No,” John whispered. “Alphas normally pay for this. As sport.” Her body stiffened and he felt sick. “I’m not one of those Alphas, sweetheart. This douchebag,” he parted from her, gesturing back to the corpse, “is probably an entitled kid. Look at how well-kept he is.”

“Surely they must know it’s illegal,” Y/N frowned and John sighed.

“I don’t think they give a fuck.”

She was silent for a few moments, eyes on the dead body. “What do we do now?” Her voice was a tiny whisper. John took her hand.

“We find our way out. Hope there aren’t too many Alphas. Hope there isn’t anything else in here that the vamps might use. And then… there’s the vampires themselves.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Options are slim.”

Y/N’s expression twisted into determination. “I’ve beaten the odds before,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “And I’m still safer with you.”

John chuckled. “Let’s hope you’re right, princess.”


	5. Chapter 5

She couldn’t stop thinking about it and she was sure John could smell every time her body shuddered at the thought of his body against hers. He felt like a drug, something Y/N was addicted to and she was craving his touch.

Eventually, they ventured across a store, empty and looted but with some supplies left. Y/N seized on a box of cereal, tearing it open and eating with her hands as John looked for other supplies. “You know that’s probably out-of-date?” he commented, returning with some clothes he’d found at the back.

“I’d rather eat out of date Wheaties than nothing at all,” she replied, frowning as he held up a bright pink shirt. “That doesn’t look too inconspicuous.”

“You’d rather be naked?” John asked and Y/N sneered back, earning a chuckle from him. “I mean, I have zero problems with the nudity but it might get cold.” 

“And what about you?” Y/N countered and John held up a larger black shirt that he’d found, a sheepish expression on his face. “Oh, no, buddy. You can be a gentleman and give me the black one.”

“The pink one doesn’t fit me,” he argued. “Look, no one will see you if we’re careful. I’ve done this before.” Y/N wasn’t sure if she wanted to know why he’d done this before but she was still reluctant to put the hideous pink shirt on.

“There was nothing else?”

“Some pants that might fit you,” he said, picking them up from where he’d dropped them on the floor. “No shoes or socks or… anything else.” She snatched the sweats and the pink shirt, glaring at him. Placing her cereal box on the floor, she changed into the clothes, all too aware of John’s eyes on her.

Wasn’t any point in hiding anything from him now.

It was getting darker by the minute and Y/N looked outside as the dim street lamps lit up the road, making it look creepier than before. John pressed up behind her, passing her a bread knife. “It’s all we got,” he said, “but it’s plenty sharp.” He took her other hand, offering her a bleak smile. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she grumbled.

And then the street lights went off.

John’s hand remained in hers but Y/N could feel the waves of anxiety coming off of him. He was injured, tired and hungry - all of these things made her doubt his ability to protect her. She didn’t know the man and he’d lied to her before.

Shaking her head, she focused in the darkness, slowly making out shapes of buildings and abandoned cars with weeds growing through the metal frames. “I’ve got you,” John reminded her. “Been in worse scrapes than this.”

It was meant to help but it didn’t and Y/N clung to his hand as he pulled her out of the door, back into the street. The knife handle dug into her hand where she held it so tight, waiting for something attack.

They made it to the end of the block with no incident. The lights remained off and Y/N stuck to John like glue. He paused, deciding which way to go and she waited patiently, listening for any sound.

Someone screamed and Y/N jumped out of her skin, clinging to John’s entire arm in fright. He narrowed his eyes, turning his head in the direction of the scream as it sounded again. To her horror, John started to move  _ toward _ the sound and Y/N held on, rooted to the spot.

“John!” she cried.

“Someone needs help,” he growled back, pulling his arm free.

“How is that our problem?” Y/N demanded but John was already walking away and she screeched, stamping her bare foot on the concrete. When he didn’t turn back, she growled and ran after him, grabbing his arm.

John spun quicker than she’d expected, his hand grabbing her throat. She struggled and kicked out, seeing nothing in his eyes but rage.

And need.

Y/N grunted in pain as John forced her against the nearest wall, holding onto her throat as he started kissing a path down her neck. He stopped at her pulse point, a rumbled “‘mega” vibrating against her skin and she shivered, fresh slick soaking the sweats. John’s scent was mouthwatering and Y/N tried to hook her legs around his waist.

John snapped at her with his teeth, forcing her legs down so he could tear the material away from her skin, leaving her bare and open. The ruined sweats hit the floor and John resumed kissing her, slowly taking his hand away from her throat as she responded to his touch.

It started to rain. Neither of them noticed, too engrossed in each other, the rain soaking them through in minutes. John fisted his cock, hoisting one of Y/N’s legs over his arm before sliding into her in one stroke. She cried out and gasped, clinging to his shoulders and John growled, raindrops dripping from his nose and lips, his hair plastered against his forehead.

He fucked her hard against the wall, losing all sense of himself in the heat of her body. Y/N couldn’t see, closing her eyes against the rain, unable to do anything but cum on John’s cock over and over.

John’s teeth scraped over her neck as his knot started to swell and something in the back of her mind started to panic at the light touch. He bit harder and Y/N cried out, spasming around him. The sudden tightness made his knot pop, cum pumping into her belly and prolonging her climax.

His teeth broke the skin and her scream echoed through the rain.

*****

When John came back to himself, he was curled around a soft warm body that stirred slightly as he moved on top of the mattress. It took a few seconds to realize that he was still inside her and Y/N clenched around his cock that was rapidly beginning to take an interest.

“Shit,” John groaned, rolling over onto his back. It was daylight and they were inside another house, this one tiny, cramped and blockaded from all sides. Had he done that?

Climbing to his feet, he looked around, spotting various bits of food, some bottles of water and clothes; a frown crossed his face. He didn’t remember any of this. The last thing he remembered was…

Fuck.

He’d mated her. Repeatedly.

It was hazy, the memory of pounding into that soft body against the wall in the street, finally tasting iron on his tongue when he sank his teeth into her. When he’d marked her as his, a girl he barely knew. An Omega who would inevitably die in his line of work.

John stumbled back, remembering gathering supplies, acting on pure instinct. He’d killed another Alpha. Two vamps.

What the fuck was happening to him?

“John?” Y/N whispered, rolling over on the bed, gloriously nude and John groaned, wanting to return to her side and spend his time making her cum again. She was bruised all over, his fingertips, handprints and teeth marks - he shuddered with each new memory.

He reached out and dragged a blanket from the edge of the bed, wrapping it around his waist. “I’m here,” he murmured and she smiled, her eyes still shut as she let herself wake slowly. John didn’t stop his feet taking him back to the filthy mattress.

She tilted her head as she opened her eyes to look at him. “Feeling a little more human?” He nodded. “Good ‘cause I’m really sore and I don’t think I can go again.” John gave her a lopsided grin, sitting down beside her as she covered herself with the thin sheet that had somehow bunched around her.

“How many days?”

Y/N blinked and yawned widely, shaking her head as she finished the action. “That you were feral?” John nodded again and she smiled. “Three? Four?” She shrugged. “I lost count.”

“What about all this?” he asked and she shrugged again.

“Hell if I know. You kept disappearing, told me to “stay”,” her eyes fixed on him, “which is rude, by the way, and came back with new stuff every time. Yesterday you came back and found an Alpha outside the door.” Her cheeks went red. “You, er, you killed him.”

John grunted; it wasn’t his first casualty and wouldn’t be his last. “Guy was an Alpha which means he paid to hunt Omegas. Deserved whatever he got.”

“I can’t believe people would pay -” Y/N shook her head. “I can’t even think about it.”

“Probably best you don’t. We need to get out of here and alert the proper authorities. The vamps are my problem but the humans using this place?” He made a disgusted sound. “Worst kind of monster is a human one.”

Y/N was quiet for a minute, staring at him as he dragged his fingers through his almost-beard. “What do you have out there?” she asked suddenly and John looked up. “Family?” A pregnant pause and Y/N continued. “Wife?”

John shook his head. “My wife died. A long time ago.”

Guilt assaulted her and she could feel the tips of her ears flushing with heat. “I’m sorry.”

“I’d say I’m over it,” John started, “but I’m still looking for the thing that killed her. Me… and my two sons.” He kept his eyes on her to gauge her reaction but she only dipped her head a little, so he carried on. “Well, just Dean at the moment. Sam went off to college. He was always a smart kid.”

“Don’t you see him?”

John sighed. “I wish I did but Sammy and I… we got a volatile relationship.” He smiled, leaning in a little. “What about you?”

“My mom and dad died when I was twelve,” she said quietly. “I lived with my uncle but… he didn’t want me anyway. I was in foster care until I was eighteen. Aged out.” His eyes were softer now, the lines around the corners evident. “That’s not a sob story. I actually had a pretty great life.”

“No Alpha?”

She smiled, looking up at him with lidded eyes. “No Alpha. No marks.”

“Leaving it a little late, huh?” John joked.

“Not anymore,” Y/N replied, her voice a whisper. It wasn’t an accusation; if anything, it sounded like a seduction. Her hand was creeping across the bed toward him and John chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Thought you were sore?” he asked and Y/N shook her head, her scent thickening. His cock swelled under the blanket and her fingers covered it, pumping him through the material. She didn’t reply, abandoning her sheet to climb over him, ridding his lap of the blanket.

John groaned when her hot fingers slipped around his length, stroking him while she kissed a path up his chest. His wound had healed properly, despite the sex, and John frowned when he realized the passage of time meant her heat should have finished.

“Y/N -” She cut him off by covering his mouth with hers, stroking the inside of his lips with her tongue before sliding it along his. John moaned and gave in, not stopping her as she lined herself up and sank down onto his thick cock. A pained hiss left her but she kept going, letting him fill her aching pussy. “Fuck,” John groaned, falling back on the mattress.

Y/N smiled and rolled her hips, dragging a growl from his lips. She straightened her back and rode him, hard enough to make herself cum. John pushed her off while she was shuddered through her climax, forcing her onto her hands and knees before sliding into her again.

“Mine,” he murmured, kissing and biting a path along her spine and Y/N whined loudly in acknowledgment, meeting him with every thrust. “Gonna fill you up, ‘mega,” John snarled, snapping his hips against her body. One arm slipped around her waist, lifting her so she was upright against him, her back to his chest.

The angle was intense and she was tender, fucked so hard in the past few days, she was surprised she hadn’t died. John was exactly the right mix of tender and rough, leaving her begging for more when she could barely stand. The strength and consistency of her arousal (and his) was suspicious but Y/N was never coherent long enough to figure it out.

John’s knot was thickening and she cried as she came, bucking against him. John held her still, both arms keeping her in place as he forced the thick width of his knot into her pussy. He came as he penetrated her fully, swelling her belly out with another load of cum.

Releasing her arms, John guided her back down onto the bed, not caring about escaping. They were in a safe place, with food and each other.

What else did they need?


	6. Chapter 6

Bobby Singer wouldn’t normally be too worried when John Winchester went missing for a few days. It was more than likely that he was either shacked up with a woman or drinking himself to death in a cabin somewhere. Maybe both.

Dean didn’t normally call unless his dad had been missing for more than a week without contact. It had been a week and some change, and Dean had just found his dad’s truck in Shelbyville, complete with all his weapons.

The last hunt he was on had taken him to Shelbyville. Bobby had sent him there on a disappearing Omega case. And now he was missing too.

In this instance, Bobby was worried. John was a pain in the ass but he was a good hunter and a good friend when he managed it. His boys had already lost their mom and even if John Winchester wasn’t in the running for father of the year, Bobby didn’t want to see them lose their father too.

Even Sam would devastated, despite their estrangement.

Dean was already in Shelbyville and Bobby headed out to meet him there. It wasn’t hard to find John’s motel room and piece together the bits of the case that he had so far. He’d been trailing a girl called Y/N, an unmated Omega on their hit list.

“His last entry was seven days ago,” Dean murmured. “He thought he’d found a lead in a club downtown.” He frowned, looking up at Bobby. “His truck was dumped at the warehouse district.” Bobby shrugged and Dean shook his head, scanning the rest of the journal. “It’s definitely vampires. He’s got something about collaboration, a possible reemergence of the species… and an Omega run?” There was confusion on Dean’s face as he looked up. “Aren’t those illegal?”

“They are,” Bobby muttered. “Don’t mean they don’t happen. Why would vamps be involved with an Omega run?”

Dean shrugged. He was Beta, Sam was Beta - everyone he knew, except for his dad, was Beta. “Either way, he’s circled a few possible locations for the run.” He pulled out a map from the journal, scowling at it. “They’re all in the Midwest.”

“Well, we can’t check every single one,” Bobby reasoned. “He’ll be dead before we get to him.”

“Maybe we go to this club and see what Dad found out?”

Said club was “The Dante Lounge”, a shady looking place with huge bouncers on the doors. Taking one look at them, Dean thought it was better they found another way in. 

Bobby didn’t want to know how Dean knew the best ways to break into nightclubs but he didn’t question it as the younger man led him through the kitchens, disguising themselves to slip through unnoticed.

It was a strip club.

Dean’s face lit up with joy and Bobby punched him in the ribs, scowling at him. The subdued young man rid himself of the white chef clothes - the plaid and leather combination wasn’t much better in a room of what looked like wealthy businessmen. 

“There,” Bobby pointed to a door and Dean slipped along the wall towards it, his heart thumping in his chest. They hurried through the door, finding themselves in a long corridor, lined with doors. Noises filled the narrow space - sexual noises.

“Not just a strip club,” Dean hissed in glee, pumping the air triumphantly.

Bobby smacked him around the back of the head. “Stop thinkin’ with ya dick, boy.” He looked down the corridor. “Look, something fishy is goin’ on here. We’re in Nowhere, Iowa, and there’s a rich businessmen’s club with strippers and private rooms?”

Dean shrugged, gesturing to the hallway. “Been to places like this before. They don’t usually have heavy door security. Those guys were armed.”

“Exactly my point,” Bobby murmured. “I’m thinking our likely way out is back the way we came but -”

Footsteps reached them and the two men bolted for the nearest door, ducking into it and closing it behind them, realizing too late that it was a closet they’d stumbled into. Dean gave Bobby an apologetic look, only visible with the light through the crack of the door.

The two sets of feet moved on without stopping and Bobby sighed in relief when they disappeared. Dean chuckled, motioning for him to go first.

“Idjit,” the old man muttered. “Now, let’s find out what the hell is goin’ on here.”

*****

Their safe haven wasn’t safe anymore. Whatever the vampires’ plan was, it most probably included both of them dying a grizzly death. Which was more likely if they could keep their hands off of each other for five seconds.

John set out to find a new place for them, leaving Y/N behind with the knife to protect herself. He wasn’t more than three blocks when he encountered another Alpha who, without the incentive of a nearby Omega, turned and ran.

The further he went from Y/N, the clearer his mind became. Was it her? Was there something about her that made all of his reasoning go out the window in favor of touching her? Suspicious thoughts buried themselves and took root in his head. Could Y/N even be trusted? She’d found him.

She’d begged for it.

Was she keeping him occupied?

John growled, stalking the streets, trying to find a way out or at least a vamp to tear apart for information. He couldn’t figure out what their plan was. What Y/N’s plan was.

He was standing outside the house they’d barricaded themselves inside. He could smell her from across the street and it was like a fog clouding his mind.

Turning, he ran, sprinting barefoot through two blocks until the haze faded again.

His heart sank in his chest.

It was her.

*****

John didn’t come back.

Y/N waited, watching the sun slowly set through the small gap in the boards blocking the window. There was nothing, no sign of life outside. Eventually, her legs began to ache, so she returned to the mattress, laying down with one hand behind her head and the other on her belly.

They hadn’t been careful.

No one could have  _ that _ much unprotected sex and not get pregnant, she was sure.

He already had kids. Dean and Sam. “His boys” he called them proudly. Y/N wouldn’t have any place in his life. She found the thought of hunting terrifying and she’d had enough encounters with monsters for an entire lifetime. But John didn’t seem like the settling down type. He was nomadic, frightening if she was honest. Alongside that, he was soft, caring, even when he hurt her like she asked him to.

Maybe it was better if she didn’t make it out of this place.

No one would miss her out there.

John didn’t come back.

*****

Dean’s hands were dripping with blood. He grimaced and moved toward the sink, rinsing off the foul smelling liquid. The vampire’s head was soaking crimson into the already stained motel carpet. Bobby held up the map, checking the location they’d managed to get out of the vamp before he’d lost his head.

“You believe all that shit he was spoutin’, Bobby?” the younger man asked, giving the corpse a kick where it was still tied to the chair.

Bobby grunted. “Wouldn’t surprise me. Rich, knot-headed Alphas payin’ to do somethin’ like that.” He sighed, folding the map away. “I’m more worried about they were doing with your pops.”

“From what I gather, being opportunistic,” Dean mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You driving?”

The old man nodded and Dean fished his keys out, heading for the door. “What I don’t get is why not just kill him?”

Dean shrugged, closing the motel door behind him and Bobby. “What  _ I _ don’t get is why vamps care about money?”

“Think about it,” Bobby started, pausing to climb into the passenger side of the Impala, “money breeds evil, right? So they make some big fancy allies, start spreading the vampy love, if you get what I mean?” Dean looked a little surprised. “Vamps are tricky bastards, Dean. Don’t you forget it.”

Starting the engine, Dean grinned at the road ahead. “Yessir.”


	7. Chapter 7

Y/N woke from a nightmare. Different than before she’d come here. This nightmare was just John, leaving her for the werewolf to tear apart. It felt real and she clutched her chest, sobbing loudly.

He still hadn’t come back.

She gathered herself and sat up, locating some clean and unshredded clothes to wear. Pocketing a few packets of crackers, Y/N swiped her knife and her bottle of water, preparing to go out and find John. He must have been hurt. Something had got him.

He wouldn’t have left her.

It was raining again outside and as Y/N shifted the barricade, she heard sounds outside. Excitement that it might be John made her scramble out of the hiding place faster, bolting out into the street. 

There was a dead body across the street. 

A decapitated dead body.

“Hey!”

The sound made Y/N turn in panic and her eyes landed on a young man in a leather jacket with a gun and a very long, very sharp-looking machete. Her fight or flight instinct kicked in and she turned.

“Hey!” the man yelled again.

Y/N ran as fast as she could, putting everything into her limited stamina. The man gave chase, catching up within half a block, still yelling at her.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!” he shouted and Y/N screamed, tumbling forward. Her face hit the pavement and she felt something crack and warm liquid trickled down her face. The man ran up to her, forcing her onto her back as Y/N clutched her nose, wailing in pain. “Show me your teeth!” he demanded and Y/N just cried harder.

His hands surrounded her wrists, tugging them out of the way so he could push her top lip up with his thumb. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed satisfied as he held out his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, helping her up from the wet floor. “I didn’t know if you were a vamp or not.”

“Dot,” she replied, cradling her face and the man reached up, tilting her chin. He hissed at the damage to her nose. “Dis dit boken?”

He nodded, looking sympathetic. “It is. You Omega?”

It struck her for the first time; he was Beta. Not that she could smell anything. And it fucking hurt like a sonuvabitch. Y/N nodded in confirmation.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Y/N,” she mumbled, cradling her jaw. Everything hurt.

“I’m Dean,” the man introduced, checking his pistol and Y/N’s world froze for a second.

“Bean?” she repeated and he chuckled.

“Yeah.”

“John,” Y/N managed clearly and Dean’s eyes went wide. “I doe John.”

Dean’s face split into a wide grin. “That’s the best thing I ever heard. Where is he?”

She faltered, her face falling and the change of expression was excruciating. Tears started to escape her eyes, rubbing  _ literal _ salt in the wound. Dean shook his head as she cried more, holding up his hands. “No, no, don’t cry. Is he… is he dead?”

Y/N shook her head. “I don’t doe.”

Dean’s features twisted with worry and he stroked his hands over her shoulders. “Okay, okay. So you don’t know where he is?” She shook her head again. “Right,” he exhaled. “We’ve cleared out most of the vamps. So we’ll go find Bobby. I’ll bet he’s found my Dad.”

*****

Bobby was on edge. This whole ghost town was giving him the creeps and he’d seen plenty of creepy things. Knowing this was a place where countless Omegas would have met their end, gruesomely most likely, made it worse.

God knew how many restless spooks haunted this place.

He wanted to burn it to the ground.

The entire town was only eight blocks by ten, relatively small. It was clear at some point there had been more to the place but the outer buildings were shells, ruins. Something had poisoned the water here in the seventies and no one ever came back.

It became a graveyard until the worst kind of people made it a place to play with humans they deemed lower than themselves.

Bobby would rejoice the day the final Alpha died. He’d never say it aloud; he’d known some decent Alphas. But if it would spare the world this…

A noise caught his attention and he turned, aiming his gun with one hand, gripping his machete with the other. Something moved and took form as it came out into the dim light and Bobby frowned as it started to rain.

“Winchester,” he seethed as he recognized John’s battered features. He looked like a homeless guy, a week’s worth of stubble coating his chin and upper lip. His hair was a mess and his lip was swollen. All he wore was a pair of sweatpants and a tank - no shoes or socks.

“Hiya, Bobby,” John replied, swaying.

He hit the deck with a wet thud and Bobby rolled his eyes. “Typical.”

Dragging John back the way he came was a ball ache and Bobby was gonna make damn sure that John knew how much of a pain in the ass he was when he woke up. He was so focused on getting his old friend into shelter that he didn’t see the man standing behind him.

When the gun clicked, Bobby went rigid, John’s body supported under his arms, his weapons unreachable.

“Damn you, John,” he growled, raising his arms and turning slowly. The man with the gun was grinning. “You a vamp?”

“One of those filthy things?” the man asked, sneering. “No. They’re handy attack dogs.”

“Human?” Bobby spat, more disgusted if that was possible.

“Very much,” the man replied, tilting his head. “There’s money in employing monsters. They usually accept very little. A few dollars, shelter,” he paused, “and a fresh supply of sweet Omega blood.”

Bobby eyed the man carefully. “You’re Beta. What d’you get out of this?”

The man shrugged. “About $3million dollars per customer. There are a lot of Alphas out there. And a lot of Omegas without mates to satisfy them. They’re practically animals.” His eyes dropped to John. “That one knew too much. So I decided to have a little fun.”

“You realize that was probably a big fucking mistake?” Bobby drawled, the rain dripping off of his hat.

“Probably. But you look like a reasonable man.” The man lowered his gun, tucking it into his jacket. “I want this little incident to go away. You and your friend have slaughtered all my vampires and they’re quite hard to come across these days.” He peered at Bobby like that was his fault and hell if Bobby didn’t wish it was. “I’m going to walk out of this town. You’re going to walk the other way.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “That right?”

“That’s right,” the man replied. “And I will give you a very respectable financial reward if you agree to silence. Or I might have to find some other monster to send after you this time.”

There was the click of another gun and the man turned his head, glaring at Dean, who shrugged with a grin. “If you’d left the threat off of the end, I’d be tempted,” he said casually, “but then you went and got all big for your boots.”

“Let’s not do anything hasty,” the man said, raising his hands and smiling at Dean pleasantly. “If we could just tal-”

The gunshot rang out loud and Dean looked over at Bobby in shock. “Bobby -”

“I know,” the old man murmured back. “He ain’t human,” he sneered at the corpse, blood spreading out in a puddle underneath his head, the bullet entering between his eyes and out the back. “That’s the  _ least _ he deserves.”

Dean remained still for a minute before deciding Bobby was right. He turned, motioning to the shadows. “You can come out.”

A girl emerged and Bobby’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Where did you find her?”

“Hiding,” Dean replied. “She’s the Omega.” Bobby’s focus was on her nose and Dean looked away guiltily. “That was kinda my fault. I frightened her and she fell.” The younger man’s gaze drifted to John and Y/N noticed him, running over in bare feet.

“John!” Her hands landed on his chest, feeling his body rise as he breathed and relief made her sob loudly. John stirred a little but didn’t wake and Bobby gave Dean a glum look.

“Let’s get him out of here.”


	8. Chapter 8

Hospitals were a double-edged sword. On the one hand, there was the jello. Something about hospital jello was just pure bliss. And on the other hand… it was a hospital. Y/N hated being confined, even more so when she was confined with an IV in her arm.

Dehydration was the worst of it. The broken nose didn’t hurt so much with the morphine and she was sporting a very in-fashion (not) white dressing across her nose that made her look like Lord Voldemort.

Having no next of kin, the hospital didn’t have anyone to call. Dean had dropped her off at the front of the building telling you he was going to park the car and then he’d gone.

They’d abandoned her.

John had been unconscious in the back seat. Bobby and Dean had made the decision for her. Because who would believe a crazy Omega that she’d been kidnapped, tortured and left to die in an abandoned town run by a psychotic money-hungry Beta and his pet vampires?

For fucking  _ fun _ .

Hospitals were worse when you were alone. Y/N didn’t have anyone and that fact cut her to the core whenever she felt the scar on her throat.

Would he realize when he woke up? He’d been disorientated those last few days, in and out of it. When she’d seen him with Bobby, she assumed he’d been hurt and that was why he hadn’t come back but now…

Maybe he’d intentionally abandoned her even after leaving his mark on her throat.

This was her fuck or die situation. She’d struck out on her own and encountered the vicious circle that ended up in the Omega run despite everything she’d done right. 

Being an abandoned Omega was worse than being unmated.

They kept her in the hospital for a week before discharging her. The nurses were kind but apologetic - they couldn’t help her get home. It was a ten-mile hike across town. Y/N was alone and abandoned.

Dean should have pulled the trigger.

It would have hurt less.

*****

By the time she got home, Y/N was exhausted, tearful, hungry enough to eat anything she could get her hands on and thirsty. The doorman let her in, shocked to see her back but Y/N ignored him and carried on after obtaining the spare key. She grabbed a family pack of chips from the cupboard and a two-liter bottle of diet soda, retreating to her little bedroom.

They’d let her shower at the hospital, which she was grateful for. As far as they were concerned, it was a sex party that got out of control, which earned her quite a few odd looks. No one said anything but Y/N knew that confidential information never stayed truly confidential.

She was probably the talk of the nurses’ station.

Eventually, she fell asleep, resting without dreams or nightmares through sheer exhaustion. When she woke up, her house phone was ringing and Y/N let it carry on, hearing the voicemail click in.

“ _ Hi, you’ve reached Y/N. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. _ ”

There was a pause and someone cleared their throat. “ _Y/N,_ ” it was Frankie from work, her voice loaded with concern, “ _we’re all getting a bit worried. Call me when you get this. Hope you’re okay.”_

Rolling onto her back, Y/N sighed. The voicemail blinked with fourteen missed calls.

Someone knocked on her apartment door and she got up, briefly entertaining fantasies that it was John, that he’d come back for you once he’d realized what his son had done. But opening the door only gave her a sensation of disappointment.

The doorman was stood there, the dopey kid that was working for six bucks an hour making sure no one came into the building that wasn’t supposed to. He was sweet but dim and he was holding her purse. “I found it outside and thought you might have dropped it.”

A snarky response -  _ “wouldn’t leave there intentionally, would I?” _ \- died in her mouth before she could say it. Smiling tightly, she took the purse, deciding not to bother with why he hadn’t called the police.

It didn’t matter now. No one would believe her.

She didn’t return any of the calls and she didn’t go to work. Wallowing in self-pity probably wasn’t the way to go but right in that moment, Y/N didn’t want to  _ exist _ anymore. It would have been pathetic to cry over a guy she’d literally fucked under the influence of something - she still didn’t know what and the hospital hadn’t found anything - especially since there was no way you could fall in love with someone within a week.

But if that were true, why did it feel like her soul had been ripped out through her chest?

Four days passed and the doorman came back to check on her, his mom in tow. His mom was one of the neighbors, a lady who seemed a little too overbearing on her son but she was concerned when she saw the state of Y/N’s face and apartment.

She felt no better even after Rita had patched up her dressings and cleaned the apartment. The former nurse had insisted that Y/N join them for dinner and however politely Y/N declined, Rita wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Her cooking was pretty darn good but it didn’t fill the hole in Y/N’s belly. That still gaped, painful and numbing at the same time.

They let her go back to her apartment with the rest of the chicken casserole and their promise they’d be checking in on her in the morning.

Y/N should have taken that for a good sign, that someone did care - but her head wasn’t thinking things through. All that she could dwell on was the fact that it had been twelve days since John had touched her and how much she wished he were there.

There wasn’t even any point in trying to look for him. Searching for “John Winchester” online at the library over the road only provided her with a list of felonies and wanted posters. The man had a criminal record a mile wide. Yet, it didn’t occur to her once that he was a bad person.

He’d saved her life. Repeatedly.

But then he’d branded himself onto her in the most intimate of ways and left.

Shouldn’t he have come back? If they were compatible, if John felt a need for her as keenly as she felt a need for him, wouldn’t he have come back? Unless… unless he was dead. If he’d been hurt more than she thought and he’d succumbed to his injuries...

The thought only sent her spiraling into uncertainty and grief.

Rita checked in on her frequently, even letting Frankie into her apartment when she turned up wondering if Y/N was still alive. Y/N couldn’t bring herself to talk about it but it was obvious enough to Frankie that she wouldn’t be returning to work any time soon.

“I’m gonna hold a spot for you,” she promised. “You’re a great kid, Y/N.” Frankie’s face was a mass of wrinkles from years of sunbeds but she was kind and she treated her staff well if they worked hard. “I know you don’t have any family but if you need anything -”

Frankie left her personal number with Rita, telling her to call if there was anything she could do.

Y/N just wallowed, sinking further and further into herself with every passing day the mark on her throat remained. It was healed into a thin silver scar and she couldn’t bring herself to look at it anymore.

Her body couldn’t hold out with the stress she was putting on it. Exactly sixteen days since John had last touched her, Rita found her sprawled on the bathroom floor, the shower still running.

There was a brief moment that she thought she saw his eyes.

But then it was just dark.


	9. Chapter 9

_ Two Weeks Earlier _

Dean could feel guilt strangling his heart when he pulled away from the hospital. He remained quiet the first few miles, constantly looking in the rearview mirror, watching his father’s relaxed features as he laid in the back seat, propped up against the door.

“You did the right thing, son,” Bobby murmured, half-asleep in the passenger seat. “This isn’t a life an Omega can be involved in.”

The younger man didn’t reply, focusing on the road ahead.

When they finally arrived back in Sioux Falls, four hours later, John was still unconscious and it was a joint effort to get him into the house and onto the couch. His injuries didn’t seem too severe but Dean stitched him up anyway, cleaning him up as well as he could without putting him into a bath.

John didn’t wake up until the next day. Bobby was researching something for Rufus on the other side of the country and Dean was cleaning the Impala. It was around noon when the first signs of life started to show in the Winchester patriarch.

Bobby looked up when a deep groan rumbled from the side of the room, a bemused smirk crossing his face when John rolled onto his side, gasping against the threadbare cushions. “Fuck,” he groaned. “What the hell happened?”

“You don’t remember?” Bobby asked, still smiling. It wasn’t that he liked seeing John get the crap kicked out of him but sometimes it was nice to be reminded that the man wasn’t invulnerable like it appeared. “We hauled your ass back here from the Omega run.”

Something in John’s eyes lit up and he sat bolt upright, looking around. “Y/N -”

“The Omega?” Bobby frowned, putting his book down on the desk. “We dropped her at the hospital. Minor injuries only, she’ll be fine and on her way home.”

John shook his head, squeezing his eyes tightly. “It wasn’t her…”

Bobby’s confusion only grew at that remark and he stood up, pouring a glass of hunter’s helper and walking over to offer it to John. The younger man took it, staring into the murky liquid. He looked like he’d aged twenty years in only a few days - what the hell had happened to them in that place?

Clearing his throat, John took a mouthful of the whiskey and winced as it burned its way down his throat. “I thought she was part of it. The way she was…” He groaned and pressed his palm to his forehead.

“John, what the hell are you on about?”

“It’s hazy. They were…” John trailed off, pulling his hand away from his face and looking up at Bobby. “You took care of it?”

“I took care of it. Shut down the guy who was runnin’ the place too.”

“You called the cops?”

Bobby’s mouth set into a thin line. “I shot him.”

John didn’t say anything, staring back at his drink. Bobby sighed, moving through to the kitchen, busying himself making a pot of coffee. The front door opened and closed and he heard Dean greet his father.

They were making small talk when Bobby walked back through - Dean was briefing his dad on the hunt he’d taken care of before they’d realized John was in trouble. “We went to the same club you went to. How’d they catch you?” The curiosity in Dean’s voice was outweighed by the confusion. To him, his dad was a no-fail superhero. 

“They got the jump on me,” John muttered, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “It happens.”

“Good thing we found you,” Dean smiled, obviously a little proud of himself for saving his dad, albeit with help.

John grunted and took the coffee Bobby offered, placing the whiskey on the table next to the couch.

“Bobby told you we took the girl to the hospital?” Dean continued, still carrying a note of pride in his voice. “Her nose was busted up pretty bad but she was okay -” John’s head had shot up and the younger Winchester frowned. “What?”

“Her nose was busted up? What happened? She was fine when I left her.”

Dean’s posture became defensive and he looked away. “I spooked her and she ran. She tripped and landed on her face. But she was fine otherwise,” he insisted. “The hospital would have taken care of her.”

Bobby focused on John, watching the play of emotions across his face. “What exactly happened in there, John? You look like you’ve been six rounds with a goddamn shifter.”

“Nothin’,” John grumbled, drinking his coffee and avoiding both of them with his eyes. Dean glanced at Bobby, frowning and the older man grimaced. “We got any fresh cases?” Ah, the Winchester change of subject. Bobby should have been expecting that.

“Nothing new,” he replied stiffly. “Not that you’re up to anything for the next few days.”

“Can’t pull rank on me, Singer,” John growled and Bobby chuckled.

“No but I can tell you that leavin’ now, without a proper meal and some  _ proper _ rest, would be a dumbass thing to do, even for you.” Bobby pointed at Dean who sat up, ramrod straight at the prospect of an order he wouldn’t be disobeying. “He stays put either there or upstairs. He doesn’t leave the house, you got me?”

John snorted; he knew Dean would fold in a second if John told him. “I got you, sir,” Dean replied, warily meeting his father’s eyes. “Please, Dad. Just… just rest awhile, yeah? There isn’t anything out there right now.” The words weren’t what Dean was saying. His green eyes were full of concern, like they had been every day since John could remember, worrying about his dad.

God, he was an asshole.

“Okay, son,” John relented, sitting back on the couch, clutching his coffee between his hands and leaning his head on the cushions. His eyes fluttered closed and Dean’s shoulders slumped in relief.

Bobby watched his old friend for a while long, not for the first time wondering what had happened in the Omega run and who that girl had been to him. But it was unlikely John would ever spit out a single word about it.

With a sigh, he left the room, heading to his workshop so he could think.

*****

Five days in and John lost his ability to rest and recuperate. Dean was antsy, looking for a case like a maniac and John couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Y/N.

Was she okay?

Had Dean made sure she didn’t have any more serious injuries?

Was he making the right decision staying away?

He’d been brooding on it constantly, remembering the taste of her skin on his lips. John knew he’d marked her. Y/N wasn’t the only Omega he’d met but she was the only one to make him feel this way. He was churning up inside with guilt and need and grief -

“Dad?”

John blinked and looked up from where he was staring at the floor, chewing the inside of his cheek. Dean was frowning at him.

“You okay?”

Absently, John nodded and Dean hesitated, unsure whether to push the subject or not. Thankfully, his better judgement won out and John knew he’d dodged a bullet for the time being.

“We got a case,” Dean announced cheerfully, hoping it would pull his father out of whatever funk he was in. He wouldn’t talk about it - not that Dean would ask. “In Montana. Couple days drive.”

“What is it?” John asked, only half interested.

“Spirit, we think. Bobby’s chasing up some leads now; if we get going, we can be there by dark.”

Montana was in the opposite direction to Iowa. He’d be further away from her not that it mattered if he wasn’t physically  _ with _ her. Something tugged in his stomach and he nodded at Dean, ordering him to get the car gassed up.

They reached Pittsville, Montana in good time and set about dealing with a disturbed spook, putting it to rest with no casualties. Ordinarily, John would relish these easy hunts, the times when it didn’t seem so bad and he’d be encouraging Dean to take the lead.

This time, he only barked orders because all he could think about was that it had been nearly nine days since he’d touched her.

After Montana, there was a case in Oregon. Another distraction that John took happily, keeping focused on the job at hand and not the painful ache in his belly. Sleep became brief and interrupted, his dreams all surrounding her, abandoned and crying in the Omega run.

Dean told him they’d killed all the vamps and most of the Alphas were dead or had run. Bobby had killed the guy running the place. So why did John feel like Y/N was in danger? Why were his nightmares about watching her die?

He could still taste her, scent her.

It was making him unbearable to deal with.

Eventually, Dean cracked. They’d taken out a shifter in Portland and had decided to stay one more night at the motel to get some sleep. John hadn’t even bothered unpacking his toothbrush, slouching into the ratty armchair in the motel room with a beer in one hand and his gun in the other.

“Dad?” Dean knew to approach carefully. His father was like a bear with a sore head and likely to explode if Dean wasn’t tactful. “Is there, maybe, anything you wanna talk about?”

“Why would you think that?” John grunted back, not bothering to look at his son, trying to ignore the voice in his head that was telling him he was being unfair and laying this all on Dean’s back when the kid didn’t know. He had acted in their best interests, like John had always taught him and now he was punishing him for it.

It had been ten days since John had laid eyes on her.

“You’ve been kinda off,” Dean started, his voice quiet. “Not the hunting, you’ve… you’re always -”

John closed his eyes, seeing her face swimming behind them and he sighed, cutting Dean off. “I never met an Omega like her,” he confessed and Dean sat back, stunned that his dad seemed to be opening up. “And I thought… because of the way she made me feel, that she had me under a spell.”

A frown crossed the younger man’s face. “Dad, we saw stuff in that place. Vials, blood - they were dosing her to make her scent more… you know.” He paused, grimacing. “Potent.”

“I know,” John murmured, sipping from his beer. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna gross you out with the details.” Dean laughed a little at that but it wasn’t humorous. John knew the boy kept his mother on a pedestal, an unattainable fairy tale that John had made up because he didn’t want his boys to think badly of their mom.

She was a good mom. For all the secrets she’d kept. John had unearthed a great many things about the love of his life which had somewhat dimmed her memory for him.

But he wasn’t going to take one of the few bright things Dean had away from him. Better he hate John than hate the memory of his mother.

“I marked her.” The confession was a whisper and John couldn’t bear to open his eyes and see the disappointment on his son’s face. “It was… I’m not sure what it was. The effect of her heat, whatever they gave her. But I marked her and then -” John sucked in a breath, opening his eyes and staring straight ahead at the dingy motel window. “I abandoned her.”

Dean was shaking his head slightly, confused. “You marked her?” His lack of knowledge with regards to Omegas was shining through. He’d never really had to deal with them. “Doesn’t that mean -”

“That I claimed her?” John snorted. “That’s an old-fashioned idea. Marking is the only way for Omegas to get the enzyme their body needs. Alphas carry it in their saliva. She could get it from any Alpha.” The thought of that had white hot rage coiling in his belly and he swigged at the beer to try and dampen it down.

“What if she doesn’t?” Dean asked.

John knew the answer but he couldn’t say it. His silence was the only answer he gave and Dean, being Dean, accepted it without question, even if he didn’t quite know what it meant.

“Get some sleep,” John ordered. “I’ll take first watch.”

“Was I wrong, sir?” Dean continued, standing up to follow his father’s order anyway. “To leave her behind?”

John didn’t look at him. He swigged his beer again and swallowed it loudly. “Get some sleep, Dean.”


	10. Chapter 10

It was another five days before they were back at Bobby’s, tired and battered from an encounter with a poltergeist shortly after they’d left Portland. Dean went straight upstairs to sleep and John opted for a shower, before joining Bobby downstairs.

“Everythin’ alright?” the older man asked, offering him a glass of whiskey.

“I guess,” John replied, taking the drink gratefully. He sat down heavily on the couch, sipping at the amber liquid almost delicately.

Bobby humped, scribbling in his journal. “I had your car towed in from Shelbyville,” he mentioned, not looking up. “No damage and nothing was taken.” John didn’t say anything and Bobby knew he was about to open a can of worms but he couldn’t keep quiet about it any longer. “The Omega…”

John’s head snapped up and Bobby swallowed. No backing out not.

“What about her?” John asked.

“John, dammit, what happened down there that’s got you so twisted up in knots?” Bobby demanded, dropping his pen. “What, did you mark her or something?” The younger man’s face paled and he looked away and Bobby’s entire face crumpled in dismay. “No, John -”

“You don’t need to tell me I’m an idiot, Bobby,” John growled, his hand tightening around his glass. “I’m well aware that marking an Omega is…” He shook his head. “Stupid. I know.” Bobby just watched him, seeing the grief on the man’s face. “But like I’ve told Dean a thousand times, you can’t get involved when you’re in this life. I can’t -” A sigh interrupted his words, frustration making him unable to explain.

Bobby was silent for a moment before he picked up his pen again. “You’re right.” John glowered; had he wanted Bobby to argue the point? He wasn’t even sure anymore. “Thing is,” Bobby drawled, not bothering to look at him, “something that’s stupid isn’t something that you’d normally avoid.”

John blinked and looked up at the older man. “What?”

“John, you marked the girl. Don’t matter about anythin’ else,” Bobby shook his head, “you can’t walk away from that. She’s your responsibility. Omegas without a mate but with a mark? That’s a death sentence.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You got her name, dontcha?” John nodded at him and Bobby grinned, sitting back and slapping his knee. “Then you got a lead. Shelbyville is a four hour drive.” He glanced at the clock. “If you leave now, you’ll make it by morning.”

Dean was still asleep upstairs and John looked towards the staircase, frowning.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bobby said, standing up and plucking a set of keys from his desk draw. “The truck,” he explained, handing them to John. “I’ll keep Dean occupied.”

Swallowing down his nerves, John stood up and took the keys, giving his friend a grateful look. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah, yeah, just go get yer girl. I’m still pissed at you.”

John chuckled, heading for the door. “You’re always pissed at me.”

*****

It didn’t take long for John to narrow down Y/N’s apartment. He parked the truck a couple of blocks away and walked around, locating the building. Outside was an EMT vehicle, with two medics loading a stretcher into the back of it and John froze across the street.

An older woman came out, holding a purse out for them to take. She started talking to the medics but John couldn’t hear what they were saying. He shook himself out of his stupor and crossed the street, catching the woman as she stood on the doorstep.

“Excuse me?” She turned, fixing red-rimmed eyes on him and he paused. “Who was that?”

“My neighbor,” the lady replied, her voice hitched and thin. “She was sick, I found her -” She turned away, heading for the door where a pimply kid was holding it open for her. “Sorry, I’ve got to go -”

“Please,” John begged, worry and guilt gnawing at his insides. “I’m looking for someone, Y/N -” The woman’s face turned white as a sheet and the doorman called out for her.

“Mom?”

“You’re him,” the woman murmured, staring at John like she’d seen a ghost. “The Alpha that abandoned her.” He winced at her description of him, the guilt weighing him down even more. “She wouldn’t speak of it but I saw the mark.” Her face crumpled. “She needed you.”

What was he supposed to say to that? “Was it her?” he asked desperately and the woman glanced back towards her son, who was frowning in concern. “Please. I know I should have been here. But if she’s sick -”

“It was her.” The confirmation, although he’d known already, made his blood run cold. “I found her, not an hour ago. She wouldn’t wake up.” The woman sighed. “They’ve taken her to Shelbyville General. If you’re not too late -”

“I’m not,” John insisted, “and thank you.” He turned away fully, sprinting down the street back to his truck. His lungs were burning by the time he made it back but he didn’t stop, gunning the truck down the street until the engine complain.

He made it to the hospital within ten minutes and quickly located the reception. The nurse stood there looking at his rumpled and sweaty appearance in concern. “Can I help, sir?”

“I’m looking for…” John paused, swallowing to catch his breath, aware he working himself into a panic. He felt like he was going to puke. “My Omega,” he grunted. “Y/N, Y/N Y/LN.”

The nurse turned around to the computer, tapping through what John could only presume were patient records. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes and he tapped his fingers against the counter impatiently, feeling like his heart would bust if she didn’t speak soon.

“Ah.” Her exclamation had John’s back straightened and his eyebrows shot up. “She is still in recovery. I can let the doctor know her next of kin is here, if you want to take a seat? We don’t have anyone listed on her file.” She narrowed her eyes. “Can I take your name?”

“John,” he replied, trying not to freak out at the mention of “recovery”. “John Winchester.”

“Usually we have an Alpha listed -” the nurse mused, writing his name down on her file, “- but her file doesn’t have a lot of information.”

“It was recent,” John murmured, not wanting to discuss his personal life. “I was called away and I wasn’t back in time -” His body started to protest the expenditure of energy on so little sleep. The nurse noticed his distress and smiled kindly, placing her hand over his.

It felt clammy and warm but she was only trying to be nice. “Take a seat, sir. As soon as the doctor can, he’ll come and see you.”

*****

Five hours ticked past like a thousand years and John was surprised he hadn’t worn his thumbs down with how much he was rubbing them together. He sat on the plastic seat, shifting uncomfortably when his ass went numb. He was hungry and tired and thirsty and boy, he could use a hundred friggin’ drinks but he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d laid eyes on her.

When it reached six hours, John was struggling to stay awake. The chair wasn’t getting any comfortable for his large frame and he was just considering getting up for a walk when a doctor approached him, white coat announcing her name as “Dr F. Bailey”.

“Mr. Winchester?” she asked, peering at him over her glasses. She was an older lady who reminded him of his second grade teacher who had given him hell during her classes. 

“Yes,” John replied, getting to his feet and shaking her hand when she offered it. “How’s Y/N?”

The doctor’s mouth was a thin line that John could only take as disapproval. “I’ll be honest with you, Mr. Winchester,” she started, holding the clipboard close to her chest. “I’m having trouble believing you are her Alpha. This is the second time that we’ve had Miss Y/N in and in this circumstance, I’m inclined to call the police.”

John shook his head, desperately. “I am her Alpha,” he insisted honestly. “I had to leave for work and I was delayed by a few days…”

“Does Miss Y/N suffer from any mental health issues? Depression, anxiety? Anything like that?”

He frowned, remembering back to their many conversations in the run. She’d never mentioned anything. “Not that I know of,” he answered. “Why do you ask?”

Dr. Bailey only stared at him over the rim of her glasses and John felt like a child in trouble. “I can’t give you any further information at this time. I need proof you are her Alpha; with nothing listed on her file, our only option is a blood test.” She scribbled something on her clipboard, not looking at him as she spoke. “When did you last mark her?”

John swallowed, knowing exactly when. “Seventeen days ago,” he murmured.

“That tallies up with the degree of healing. It’s quite a new mark, isn’t it?” He nodded, hoping she didn’t ask how they’d met. “If the enzyme in her blood matches yours, I will accept that as proof that you’re her Alpha.” John nodded again, unable to force his voice to work. The doctor smiled, apparently taking his willingness to cooperate as a good sign. “If you’ll come with me, Mr. Winchester.”


	11. Chapter 11

It was two hours before the results came back and John was finally allowed to see Y/N. Dr. Bailey led him into the side room she was in, two of her interns tagging along. “She’s attached to a lot of machines,” she warned. “It can be quite overwhelming.”

John could guarantee he’d seen worse.

Y/N seemed small and fragile in the hospital bed but then people always do. John remembered Dean seeming tiny when he last required hospital treatment and he’d hit six feet at the age of seventeen. As the doctor explained to him in language he couldn’t possibly understand, John took in every detail of her features.

Her skin held none of its usual glow and her nose was still healing, dressings concealing most of her face, black and blue bruises staining her skin and edging into yellow. “We don’t know what her prognosis is until she responds to treatment.”

John took a shuddering breath and tore his eyes away from Y/N to look at the doctor. “Are you saying she might not wake up?”

Dr. Bailey looked sympathetic. “It’s a possibility. She suffered extreme damage to her nervous system. If her neighbor hadn’t of found her,” she sighed, shaking her head, “it’s likely she would not have survived a few more hours.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. If he’d been there two weeks ago, she wouldn’t be in danger now. This was all on him.

“Mr. Winchester,” the doctor murmured, “are you aware you and your Omega are a perfect genetic match?” John shrugged and the woman continued, although he was barely listening. “It’s quite rare. I’ve never seen it.”

“Is there anything at all you can do?” he asked, not particularly caring about genetics.

Dr. Bailey watched him for a moment. “Not at the moment,” she replied apologetically. “Until we can be certain her body is fighting, there’s nothing else we can do.”

John nodded, slinking toward the bed and claiming the chair by Y/N’s side. The doctors and interns watched them for a moment before retreating, shutting the door to give him privacy.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to shout and scream and demand that he be given another chance. Not that he deserved it. Dean may have driven away but John was the one that never came back. And now, Y/N might die. Her organs were failing and she was rapidly losing weight. The concerns for her mental health lay in the fact that she’d not been eating or drinking properly, leaving her body with nothing to burn.

She needed her Alpha. She needed to know he was back. But John couldn’t do anything with her unconscious.

“Just take my hand,” he murmured, sliding his fingers between her limp ones, staring at her face with tears trickling down his cheeks. “Just take my hand, sweetheart. I’m here.”

Nothing happened and John remained still. He wasn’t expecting the universe to be working in his favor and he dropped his forehead down, resting against her bed with his hand resting in hers.

*****

His phone was vibrating in his pocket, disturbing his rest. John blinked a few times, clearing the sleep from his eyes and he sat up straight, groaning at the pain in his back from his uncomfortable sleeping position. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, answering gruffly.

“ _ Dad? _ ”

“Dean,” John muttered, scrubbing his hand over his face before looking over at Y/N. Her eyes were closed, the tube in her throat helping her breathe. “Everything okay?”

“ _ Yeah, I’m just checking in on you. Bobby said you were gonna call - did you find her? _ ”

John’s eyes lingered on her face. “Yeah,” he grunted, “yeah, I found her.” It was clear from Dean’s silence he was expecting more than that and the older man sighed. “It’s not good, Dean.”

“ _ You need me there? _ ” Dean asked and John chuckled.

“No. Take a break. Go see Sam. I know you’ve been itching to sneak off and check on him.” Dean started to deny it but his father cut him off. “I’m good, Dean. Just be careful, okay? And I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“ _ Dad, _ ” Dean started and stopped, breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. John waited, wondering what his son was going to say. “ _ If you need to talk about it - _ ”

John closed his eyes, dropping his chin into his chest. “I don’t think you wanna hear about it, son. Don’t worry about me. Take some time out to yourself.”

Dean agreed and hung up - he was probably in the Impala on his way to California within a few minutes. John put his phone on the table next to the bed and folded his arms underneath his head, still feeling the pull of sleep.

Before he’d slipped away again, his hand curled back around hers.

“Just take my hand,” he murmured. “I’m here, baby.”

*****

“Mr. Winchester?”

It wasn’t his phone this time but one of the interns, gently shaking his shoulder. Luckily, he’d left his gun in the truck or otherwise the kid might have eaten lead for breakfast. John grunted and sat up straight, not taking his hand away from Y/N’s.

“Dr. Bailey asked us to check on you,” the intern said slowly, wary of the large man.

“I’m fine,” John replied stiffly. He was lying - the hunger and thirst remained. The intern looked terrified as he wrung his hands. “You need me to leave for a bit?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. Dr. Bailey needs some procedures done and you should probably eat and drink,” the intern rambled on, smiling, “otherwise you’ll end up needing a bed of your own.” The joke didn’t seem to register with John and the younger man stuttered nervously.

“Don’t worry,” John replied, taking Y/N’s chart off of the end of the bed and scribbling his cell number on the top. “Call me if anything changes. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

The intern didn’t get a chance to say anything in return as John leaned over and kissed Y/N’s forehead. He mumbled something that didn’t reach the rest of the room and then left, shoulders hunched tightly. “He’s kinda scary,” the other intern muttered as he walked in, watching the Alpha storm down the hallway.

John left the hospital, almost forgetting where he’d parked his truck. When he was inside and pulling away from the hospital, he knew his first need was a motel and a shower. He didn’t think there was any chance of him getting into Y/N’s apartment, no matter how much he wanted to.

The motel he found was close by, run down and filthy but John only wanted the shower. He paid for one night, quickly changed his clothes and cleaned up. The clerk didn’t pay any attention to him as he left again a few hours later, tossing the key across the desk.

His phone started to ring as he climbed back into the truck and he frowned at the unknown number. “Hello?” he answered, his panic dialing up to eleven when Dr. Bailey responded. “Is something wrong? Is Y/N -”

“ _ Y/N’s conditioned remains unchanged _ ,” the doctor reassured him, a smile in her voice. “ _ I was wondering if you were returning to the hospital shortly? _ ”

“I’m on my way back now,” John confirmed.

“ _ Ah, good. Would you mind waiting for me in Y/N’s room? _ ”

The doctor didn’t offer any other information but John agreed to meet her. He wasn’t waiting long when he arrived back at Y/N’s room.

Dr. Bailey walked in with a smile which triggered a small amount of hope in John’s heart. “Mr. Winchester,” she greeted. “I’m glad you could make it back so quickly.”

“What’s this about, Doc?” he asked, pressing his hands together tightly.

“Well, I wanted to tell you about a possible treatment,” she started and John allowed that little bit of hope to swell. “I was speaking to a colleague of mine in Delaware - I’ve only ever treated two Omegas and one of them was Y/N on her last trip. So I was worried that I could possibly be missing something.”

“Your colleague knows more about ‘em?” John asked and the doctor nodded. He couldn’t fault her on it; his own knowledge was limited and he wasn’t a doctor.

“She’s a specialist, luckily enough. OBGYN but she’s still got miles on me.” Dr. Bailey laughed nervously, tossing her hair out of her eyes. “I happened to mention you and how odd it was that your genetic compatibility was 100% which is a rare occurrence, as I told you.” She was rambling now but John let her, not wanting to piss off the woman who could save Y/N’s life. “And she told me about a procedure, one that would allow us to reboot her, so to speak. It hasn’t been done very often - it’s not normally an option.”

“But it would work?” John was losing control of that little spark inside him. He reached out, taking Y/N’s hand even though she couldn’t respond.

Dr. Bailey held her hands in front of her like she was praying. “I don’t know. All we would need is to inject a small amount of your blood into her. Usually, it’s done with saliva so the reaction should be much quicker.”

“Can’t I just…” John’s cheeks were heating furiously. “Mark her again?”

“It wouldn’t be enough. The enzyme has to be introduced in a certain way and in enough volume that her system will recognize it and start to repair her organs. It’s not a quick method by any means -” She paused, moving a little closer. “Mr. Winchester, marking has to be done repetitively for a reason. It’s the only way Omegas have of obtaining that particular enzyme. It has to come into direct contact with her blood. Your blood contains the enzyme too so a small transfusion…”

“Will speed up the reaction,” he finished, understanding her method of thinking.

“I’m confident this will work, Mr. Winchester. And if it doesn’t, there’s no harm. She’s a match for you.” She paused, giving him a little smile. “In every way.”

John nodded, his gaze landing on Y/N as he agreed. “When can we start?”


	12. Chapter 12

A tiny prick from a needle didn’t bother him but John was running on so little food and sleep that he felt woozy afterward. Dr. Bailey took as much as she could to ensure it would work and left him to lay down on the bed in her office for a few moments as his body readjusted.

He flung one arm over his eyes, listening to his heart racing. Opening his eyes meant acknowledging the spin the world was currently on and that would lead to nausea.

The blood loss in addition to the exhaustion only forced him to fall asleep.

His fitful dreams, the ones he’d been avoiding, only took him to Y/N. The memories of their time in the Omega Run mixed with his own fantasies brought to life and entire creation where she was his and they were safe. He remembered the touch of her skin, the way she gasped when she came.

John missed her taste.

The office door opened and John woke with a shout, searching for his gun underneath his pillow. It took a few seconds for him to remember everything, meeting the eyes of a slightly frightened looking Dr. Bailey. “Shit,” he groaned. “Sorry. I… guess I was tired.”

“It’s okay. After a few hours, I began to wonder where you were,” she replied, smiling softly, the fear in her eyes dissipating. John slid from the bed, rolling his sleeve down. “I have some good news.”

He looked up sharply, still unsure how he’d managed to pass out for  _ hours _ , but eager to hear the good news.

Dr. Bailey’s smile widened. “Y/N woke up a few moments ago, she’s going to be -”

The door slammed shut and John sat up with a jolt. “Mr. Winchester?” A worried intern hovered by the door. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you -”

“How long was I out?” John asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Only thirty minutes or so. Dr. Bailey is about to start the transfusion. She thought… she thought you might wanna be there.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shuffling off of the bed, John followed the intern out of the office, unable to completely shake the drowsiness from his brief nap. Y/N’s scent hit him before he’d reached her room and Dr. Bailey was waiting, offering him a hopeful smile when he walked in.

“We’re ready to start,” the second intern at Dr. Bailey’s side murmured. John slipped into the chair beside Y/N’s bed, taking her hand. Dr. Bailey nodded and started whatever it was she needed to do, explaining it to John as they went.

He barely listened. His eyes were intently on Y/N’s face, watching for any reaction, no matter how tiny. It felt like seconds were ticking by slower and slower with each passing minute and everything else in the room became muffled and unimportant.

“It’s all set up,” Dr. Bailey said softly, touching John’s shoulder. “It can take a few hours for the transfusion to complete.”

“How long until we see if anything happens?” John asked and the doctor sighed.

“We have little to no data on this. It’s in God’s hands now.”

It wasn’t that John didn’t appreciate the sentiment - he just couldn’t accept it. He’d left things in God’s hands one too many times and he couldn’t bear to go through that again. 

But what else could he do?

Dr. Bailey and the interns left, letting him know they’d check in periodically. John only nodded in acknowledgment, keeping his focus on Y/N’s face, waiting, hoping for anything.

He was dozing off when the door to Y/N’s room opened and his head snapped up. Expecting the doctor or one of the interns, John raised his eyebrows, ready to say there’d been no change.

Dean stood uncomfortably in the doorway, sliding to the side to shut the door behind him. “Dean?” John asked, wondering if he was hallucinating. “What are you doing here?”

“Sam’s fine,” Dean mumbled, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “You told me to take a break. Like a vacation. And I got worried because…” He was looking anywhere but at John, obviously concerned for his father yet more worried about showing it.

A guilt he was familiar with wallowed in his gut and John smiled. “It’s okay, son.”

“You were on your own,” Dean explained, walking over and grabbing one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. He sat next to his dad, giving him a hopeful little smile. “And this is kinda my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” John replied softly. “Don’t put blame where it doesn’t belong, Dean.” He looked back at Y/N, stroking his thumb over her hand. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. I should have come back.”

Dean watched his dad for a moment, seeing the depth of his feelings for this unknown Omega. Not for the first time, Dean both wondered what had happened in the run and wanted to scrub his brain clean of the mental image.

“You look exhausted,” Dean commented carefully.

“I’m staying,” John growled, “before you start quotin’ Bobby on me.” His fingers tightened a little around Y/N’s hand. “I wanna be here when she wakes up.” There was no argument from the younger man and John was grateful for that. Wild horses couldn’t drag him away from her side.

“You mind if I sit here with you?” Dean asked and John shook his head, managing a wry smile for his son.

“Sure,” he answered, the smile becoming a smirk. “You can get me some coffee first.”

*****

Hours ticked by. Dean went and found a motel room for them both, returning with food and more coffee. The entire transfusion took three hours and John kept waiting for something to happen. He was so on edge he was practically vibrating but Dean knew he wouldn’t leave.

Y/N’s vitals improved four hours after the transfusion. Dr. Bailey was gone for the night, due to return in the morning and the night staff were diligent in their duties but not too chatty. Dean went back to the motel to sleep and shower and John remained where he was.

Seven hours passed and the sun rose again, casting yellow shadows over the room. John was losing hope by the second and coffee wasn’t keeping him awake anymore. By 8am when Dr. Bailey arrived, he was asleep, head cushioned under one arm, his other stretched out, still holding Y/N’s hand.

She watched him from the window, one of the nurses stood by her side. “You ever see a man so devoted?” the nurse sighed.

“If he was so devoted, she wouldn’t be in here,” Dr. Bailey replied. “We don’t know the full story. We won’t until she wakes up.” She paused, sighing heavily. “If she wakes up.”

The nurse frowned but Dr. Bailey was walking into the room, giving John a smile as the sound of the door opening roused him. He went to pull his hand away to greet the doctor when he realized -

“Er, Dr. Bailey?” he murmured. “She’s holding my hand.”

Dr. Bailey smiled, moving over to where Y/N’s fingers were lightly grasping John’s. “This is good. You should talk to her. Coax her out of it.” She moved around the bed, checking Y/N’s vitals. “She’s definitely improved. Liver functions, heart rate, blood pressure -” Her smile grew wider as she checked the rest of the observation notes from the night shift. 

John squeezed Y/N’s hand, tears in his eyes. Dean chose that moment to return with breakfast, freezing in the doorway as he realized he was intruding on something. “You, er, want me to come back?” he asked.

“No,” John murmured. “Thanks, doc.”

“I’ll be back in a little while. Have one of the nurses page me if anything happens.” She left the room and Dean walked over with a smile, holding out a bag and a coffee to his dad.

“Did you get any sleep?” Dean asked and John grunted, sipping the coffee and grimacing when he realized how hot it was. “Dad -”

John held up a hand. “Don’t lecture me. I got a few winks. I don’t wanna sleep.”

“You sound like a toddler,” Dean teased playfully, elbowing his dad lightly. “Seriously, though, you gotta take care of yourself. You’re no good to Y/N if she wakes up and you pass out.” He didn’t get a reply, which was normal for a comment like he’d made. John was awful at taking care of himself. “So this blood thing is working?”

“Yeah,” John confirmed, munching on the bacon from the breakfast muffin Dean had brought him. “It’s looking good.”

Dean nodded, folding his arms over his chest. “Dad, what’s gonna happen after this?” His voice was quiet and John swallowed his mouthful, looking at his son in confusion. “I mean, if she’s better, are you gonna like… stay with her? Or still hunt? Would she hunt?”

“No,” John said firmly. “I haven’t got that far yet,” he confessed, lowering the muffin in his hand. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen and I wouldn’t make the decision without talking to her first anyway.” He sighed, looking away from Dean who watched him carefully. “But I wanna be with her.”

Neither of them spoke as John finished the rest of his breakfast. By noon, Dean was playing on his phone, keeping an eye as John slept with his head on Y/N’s bed. He’d told Dean to wake him if he fell asleep; Dean had promptly ignored that order.

He didn’t see the first twitch. He was just about to beat the last level on Tetris and as he failed spectacularly, he saw it. Y/N’s foot slid to the side.

“Dad!” Dean hissed, elbowing his dad in the side. A sour moan was his response as John raised his head, just in time to hear Y/N as she parted her lips and tried to speak around the tube in her throat.

Her eyes opened wide in panic as John cursed loudly and slammed his hand on the button. As doctors and nurses rushed in to help, Dean dragged him back, knocking the chairs over as the medical professionals demanded room.

“She’s awake,” John gasped and Dean clutched at his jacket, keeping him back from the bed until they’d helped Y/N. “She’s awake.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, wincing away from the sight of them dragging the tube from her throat. John went still his hold as the atmosphere in the room seemed to calm and the nurses filtered out, followed by the interns. Dr. Bailey remained, helping Y/N to drink some water, testing her immediate reactions.

“John,” Y/N whispered and the doctor smiled.

“He’s right here,” she replied, looking up at John.

The Alpha seemed shocked to his core like he’d hoped so hard he’d broken it and never imagined this moment. Dean released his hold on him and John almost stumbled to the bed, clutching at Y/N’s hand as she turned bruised eyes on him.

“John,” she sighed, relief on her expression.

“I’m here,” John murmured, leaning over to kiss her forehead, careful of her nose. “I’m here, baby. Not goin’ anywhere.”

Dr. Bailey stepped back, locking eyes with Dean who watched her like a hawk. She offered him a smile and left the room, stopping outside the door. The nurse she’d spoken to before was there again. “Still think there’s more to the story, Dr. Bailey?”

The older woman smiled. “It doesn’t matter if there is. You don’t look at someone like that if you didn’t love them. There wasn’t anything but relief on her face to see him.” She looked over at the nurse, patting her shoulder as she passed. “If we could all be so lucky.”


	13. Chapter 13

John wouldn’t stop staring at her. Y/N couldn’t stop smiling as he glanced over every few seconds like he couldn’t believe she was real. The wind was whipping her hair around her head as they headed down Highway 90, the early hour providing clear roads.

“Would you stop it?” she complained, reaching over to slap his leg. A brilliant smile erupted on his face.

“I can’t help it,” he replied, grabbing her hand before she could withdraw it. He laced their fingers together, still smiling when he glanced up at her again. “I’m looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“Thing, huh?”

John tisked and rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

They still hadn’t talked about what was happening between them. After a couple of days in Shelbyville General, they’d discharged Y/N and she’d initially gone home to her apartment. Dean and John had gone back to the motel.

She was trying not to be disappointed. John had promised her they would talk. Managing a quick shower, Y/N had only just wrapped a towel around herself when there was a desperate knock at her door.

John hadn’t even made it through forty-five minutes before he was driving over and now he was at her door. They didn’t talk. Barely a word. He’d picked her up with a kick to shut the door behind him and carried her to the bed.

His fingers left bruises where he held her so tight but Y/N was as hungry as he was. Her towel didn’t make it to the bed with her and John buried his face between her bare breasts, mouthing at the skin as he went lower. Y/N whined as he trailed kisses over her belly, dipping his tongue into her belly button.

Using his hands, John spread her thighs, practically snarling as he dragged his mouth over her clit, flicking his tongue against the swelling bud. Her reaction was an involuntary jerk of her hips and John chuckled, repeating the action with his arms pinning her down.

He’d missed her scent. Her taste. The thought that he’d almost lost her…

Y/N was close but John’s senses were sobering as he realized how near her death had been. He withdrew from his spot and she whined in protest, gasping sharply when he pressed the tip of his cock into her slick hole.

“I will spend hours worshipping you with my tongue, princess,” he promised. “But right now, I need to be inside you.” His hips rolled and Y/N cried out as the thickness of his cock split her open even more. “Lift your legs for me, baby girl. Just like that.” John slid a hand underneath her ass, supporting her as he started to work the rest of his cock into her body.

Her body was aching still but John’s touch seemed to burn it away. She’d craved him for so long, needed his touch like she needed air - now he was here and she was overwhelmed.

His cock pressed deep inside her, buried to the hilt and John exhaled a breath he’d held a little too long. Blood rushed into his head, making everything more vivid for a split second. Y/N clenched around him, looking up at him with her bottom lip hooked between her teeth.

She even looked cute with the bruised nose. At least she didn’t have to wear the dressing anymore.

“John,” she whined, arching into him and he realized he hadn’t move. With a smile, he caught her lips with his own and started to move, slow strokes that teased her of the power behind them. “Please,” Y/N begged, “I need it, John.” He pulled back to look her in the eye and she smiled. “I need my Alpha.”

John growled, the next kiss bruising and harsh enough to leave her tasting blood on her tongue. She didn’t know if it was his or hers but the question was soon wiped from her mind as John’s hands slipped under her, gripping her shoulders from behind.

With the leverage, he was able to pin her, taking the opportunity for long hard strokes that made her cry out with each slam of his cockhead into her cervix. It hurt in the best way, spiraling pleasure through her belly until she was screaming and sobbing, her entire body shaking.

His teeth scraped over her mark and she convulsed around him again. John snarled against her throat, not ceasing his relentless pace, despite the swelling of his knot at the base of his cock. Y/N screamed again and he covered her mouth with one hand.

“Sssh, sweetheart,” he warned. “I don’t want your neighbor callin’ the damn police this time.”

Y/N moaned into his hand and John growled in warning, his hand slipping down around her throat. He squeezed, just hard enough to silence her, not enough to cut her airway off entirely.

His knot was thick now, wider than his shaft and John knew he was going to cum. With one hard stroke, the knot slipped inside, making Y/N’s eyes roll back in bliss. As he pumped into her, his hand released her throat, replaced by his teeth as he renewed the mark on her throat.

His mark.

She was still shuddering when he finished.

For two days, they hadn’t left the bed and they never got around to talking.

Y/N woke up on the third day and handed in her notice on her apartment. She asked Rita to give the things she left behind to Goodwill - she didn’t have much but she wanted it to go to a good place. By the time John woke up, she’d returned with breakfast and told him that she’d resigned from her position at the diner.

Now, they were on the road, a bag of her most treasured possessions in the back of the truck, next to his weapons.

They hadn’t talked much on the drive either. Whatever had happened in the Omega run, it had led them here. It wasn’t ideal and it wasn’t perfect; no one expected it to be.

Putting into words that she didn’t care who he was or what he did was hard. She’d fallen hard and fast for him without even realizing it, given up before she’d even given it a chance. He’d tried to tell her why he’d left in the run but she didn’t care. Everything in there was frightening and confusing and Y/N still struggled to put it right in her own mind.

“We’ll stop at the next town,” John murmured, still clutching her hand tightly. “Get a motel room for the day.”

“You don’t have a case?” she asked, leaning her head back against the seat. “I thought we were heading to California for a case.”

He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “You know what my son told me when I walked out of our motel room?”

Y/N pulled a face at him. “What did he say?”

“He told me,” John chuckled, shaking his head. “He told me to relax.”

“Well, you should,” Y/N agreed, holding his hand up. “Not as young as you used to be.”

Mock horror spread over John’s face as she grinned. “You calling me old?” he accused and she fixed him with a smug look.

“Statin’ the facts, Grandpa.”

“I prefer Daddy,” he rumbled and Y/N’s cheeks flushed with heat, her thighs pressing together automatically. John laughed, looking back to the road. “Next motel is three miles away. You gonna last that long?”

She stared at him pointedly. “You after road head now?”

“If you’re offering,” he retorted. Y/N yawned and John lifted her hand to kiss her fingers. “You need sleep, sweetheart. Everything else can wait.”

“You’re too good to me,” she whispered, sliding across the seat to rest her head on his shoulder. The two-mile marker for Longtown flashed by the window.

“I’m not good enough for you,” John replied and Y/N frowned, looking up at him. “I’m really not.”

With a distasteful grunt, she slapped his chest. “Shut up,” she murmured, returning to her perch on his shoulder. “Hey, don’t we have to go through Nevada?”

John nodded, taking the next turning as the signs indicated one mile to go. “What, you wanna go and catch a show in Vegas?”

A grin spread slowly across Y/N’s face. “I’ve never been to Vegas.”

“You haven’t? Maybe I should take your Vegas virginity,” he commented. “Although, there are other things we could do in Vegas.” Y/N watched out the windscreen, excited by the prospect of seeing more than she’d ever dreamed as a scrawny kid in an orphanage.

“Hmm? Like what?”

John turned his head so he could kiss her temple, slinging one arm around her to tuck her into his side as he pulled into the motel parking lot. “Like what, John?” Y/N prodded, sitting up as he parked the truck. He still didn’t answer as he got out and she frowned, scrambling to get out and find out what he was on about. “John?”

He pinned her against the side of the truck, catching her mouth in a bruising kiss that was altogether too short but left Y/N gasping for breath as she tried to focus on his features. His smirk returned and she shuddered in his arms.

“Marry me.”


End file.
